


Home Sweet Home

by Zyalah



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Blood and Gore, Canon Compliant, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Friends to Enemies, Friends to Lovers, Mental Abuse, Physical Abuse, Swearing, Twisted, Violence, lucas might have a slight choking kink, zoe baker/reader friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2018-10-16 06:00:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10565079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zyalah/pseuds/Zyalah
Summary: You grew up in Dulvey, Louisiana. Your best friends were Lucas and Zoe Baker. You were inseparable. Until life got in the way. After years of avoiding the place you once called home, you return. But it might have been best to stay away.





	1. Prologue: The Past Can Hurt

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter will solely be set up, a brief look into the past of the reader and the Baker family.

Growing up in Dulvey, Louisiana was nothing to brag about. You'd make a joke about it being a provincial town, were very day was like the one before, but this wasn’t a fucking Disney movie, this was real life, and living in Dulvey was about as entertaining as watching paint dry. To you there were only three things the town had going for it, one was the local Dulvey Beer, which you thought should technically be classed as moonshine, because whatever it was, was certainly not beer. Two the fact that New Orleans was only a two hour drive away, so anytime you actually wanted some fun and excitement all you had to do was hop in the car and drive. And last but certainly not least, number three, the Bakers, specifically Lucas Baker. 

You’d known the Baker family your whole life, your father had served with Jack in the Marines, and after they’d finished their tours, your father had moved down to Dulvey, which is where he met your mother….Well technically Jack and Marguerite had set him up with their close friend, but one thing led to another and four months later they were married. Fast forward a couple of years and you were born, with Jack and Marguerite even becoming your Godparents, and vise versa for their two children Lucas and Zoe. So to say you were close was an understatement. 

You remembered childhood days long since past very fondly, you’d loved playing around the vast Baker Manor as a kid. Your own home, was nothing to be desired, just a small two bedroom house in the main town area. So every time your parents would take you round there for a play date, you’d never want to leave. To you it wasn’t just an old plantation estate, hell back then you didn’t even know what that meant. No, to you it was some magical palace that you and your best friends could have adventures in, no longer were you Lucas, Zoe and y/n the weirdo kids that nobody wanted to play with, now you were The Genius, The Warrior, and The Princess. You had many adventures and infinite tales could be told between you three, it was fun, even if it got you into trouble sometimes or landed you in the emergency room (never have a sword fight on a swing seat). 

When you hit puberty that’s when things started to change between you, Zoe and Lucas. With Lucas being 3 years older than you and Zoe you got to watch in abject terror as your friend went from the playfully shy kid you knew, to a lonely closed off young man. You supposed it didn’t help that his only real friend was you, at that point he didn’t consider Zoe a friend, they were related, they had to spend time together, and she didn’t make it easy either, the amount of pranks she’d tried to rope you in on was getting out of hand by the time you both got to Sophomore year of High School. What was worse, was the amount of assholes your school seemed to produce, you were lucky, you had Zoe in your year, to back you up, to give no shits, and occasionally punch some assclowns lights out, she was tough, ever the warrior, ready to fight and defend her Princess. But Lucas, he was alone, stuck taking tedious Senior classes that he could easily ace in his sleep, with a bunch of up-themselves dickheads, who had the audacity to call him a freak, a weirdo, loser, and every other name under the sun.  
You remember once at lunch when Zoe was off sick, you’d gone to sit with Lucas, like you always did. But unlike other times, were he grumbled and after getting yelled at by Zoe, would scoot over and let you sit next to him. This time he simply told you to “fuck off”, you remember going to the bathroom to cry, you even skipped the rest of the day, calling your mom and telling her you were sick and needed to be picked up. You couldn’t understand why Lucas was say something like that to you, he never been like that before, to other people sure, but to you…  
He drove to your house that night, with your favourite movie and fast food clutched tightly in his hands, you remember how nervous he looked, as if he was taming a rabid lion. He’d asked to come in so quietly, he thought you’d ignored him when you didn’t answer right away. It would have made you chuckle if he didn’t look so sad.  
You took him up to your room, like you had a thousand times before, but that night it was awkward. The tension from school permeating the air. You remember him shoving the food and movie quickly into your arms and blurting out an apology for what he’d done to you at lunch. He told you why he did it, it was touching, sweet, kind. All the things you saw in him that no-one else did. It was simple really, he didn’t want people thinking you were friends with him without Zoe. He didn’t want people spreading rumors about you, and why you would hang out with a loser like him. He didn’t want people making fun of you when he couldn’t do a fucking thing to stop them. So he did the only thing he could, lash out at you.  
Lucas never did like hugging all that much, claimed he was too cool for it. But that never stopped you, and it didn’t that night. You pulled him into the tightest hug imaginable, slightly afraid you’d break him if you squeezed any tighter, but you needed him to know how much you cared about him. How much he meant to you, and if your words couldn’t describe it, then your actions would. And to your amazement, he hugged you back, with all the strength his thin frame had. You don’t know how long you both held onto one another, but no matter how long it was it didn’t feel like enough. You wanted to hold onto him and never let him go…And that was the night you realised you loved Lucas Baker. 

After that night, things started changing dramatically, though you never told Lucas in fear of rejection, you pounced at every opportunity to be with him. And while you never stopped hanging out with Zoe, you found yourself spending more time alone with Lucas. You couldn’t count how many nights you’d spent hanging out in his barn, watching banned horror movies, listening to way to loud music you could feel pounding in your chest, and getting wasted. A rumor even started at school that you and Lucas were fucking. You secretly loved it, Zoe however did not. She made it very clear that the idea of you getting fucked by her brother made her sick. But honestly you couldn’t give a rats ass, and Lucas never brought up the rumor so he must not have minded either, which in the back of your mind always gave you hope.  
That hope continued to grow, every single day that went by. Lucas’ Senior Prom came and went, and instead of moping about and trashing everyone who was stupid enough to waste their time and money on a dance (Lucas’ words not yours). You, Lucas and Zoe, decided to hop into his old muscle car and drive straight on down to New Orleans to have your own party. You don’t remember much from that night, what you do is nothing but a blur of laughter, bright colours and party hats. You did however later find several recordings of the night over the three of your phones, your favourite one is of Lucas getting into an argument with a vending machine, somehow managing to hot wire it to release all of it contents, you both stuffing every pocket with snacks, the security team getting called, and Lucas grabbing your hand and screaming “Fuck ‘da police!”  
Turns out the night was also eventful for Zoe, who with all her allure, had managed to snag herself a one night stand. Something she described to you in detail, after you had gotten back home to her trailer and Lucas had gone. And despite her good intention's, Zoe had firmly solidified your heterosexuality with her graphic retelling of her loss of virginity. 

A couple of years passed, and you were all attending university. Lucas and Zoe were still at home, though Lucas had the apartment conversion in the barn and Zoe had her trailer, you however had been kicked out. It’s funny how things can break without anyone even noticing, it was a mixture of different things that tore your family apart, Dad getting a job with the BSAA, Mom cheating on Dad with a shit ton of different guys, Dad getting based in DC, Mom sleeping with even more guys. Eventually they just called it quits, after 21 years of marriage they were done. Your Dad couldn’t offer you a place in DC because of his job, and your Mom didn’t want you there, not after you had taken your fathers side in the divorce, so you were on your own. Sort of.  
The Bakers had let you stay with them, the had enough spare rooms and as Marguerite had pointed out, you were family in the eyes of the lord. So you found yourself crashing in their spare room off the rec room area. But you always felt off, despite you eating their food, and using their electricity and wifi, they never asked for anything in return. In fact they often looked at it as a blessing, Zoe was over the moon that her best friend would be technically living with her, and Lucas had said having you there wouldn’t suck, (a major compliment from Lucas). But it didn’t stop you feeling like a sponge.  
You had rectified this by getting a night shift job at the local dive bar, a choice Lucas had turned his nose up at, he often told you you didn’t need to stand around getting hit on by drunk old men in order to stay with him and his family. But when you refused to back down, you came to an agreement, he would drive you to and from work every single shift or you wouldn’t go in.  
You also applied for a one of a kind internship in New York, it was all expenses paid and you got your own apartment, you only applied because you were desperate (this was before the Bakers took you in and you got a job), although it **was** a once in a life time opportunity to advance your career. You never in a million years thought you would get it. Even after you made the short-list, and then got through both rounds of interviews. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d get your dream job…

Everything changed when you told the Bakers. You were unsure whether you would take the offer or not, you needed to run it by them first…Well one of them. It was at dinner you dropped the bomb, the whole table went silent. You could feel your heart beating so hard in your chest that it felt as if it was going to break through your rib cage and burst onto the table. Zoe was the first to speak, she always was when the tension in the family could be cut with a knife.  
“Y/n that’s amazing!!! The big apple! Don’t think for a second I’m not gonna be crashing at your pad.” She had squealed as she flung her arms around you. You knew she was going to say that, and honestly you didn’t mind, hell you wanted them to visit, to stay. You’d be lonely without them. Without Lucas. Jack and Marguerite had given you their blessings, their praise and their opinions on the matter. They all seemed to be on board, all except Lucas.  
“Have fuckin’ fun in New York then!” He seethed at you as he forcefully got up from the table. You remember sitting there dumbfounded as Jack ran after him, yelling curses at his disobedient pup of a son. You remember Marguerite soothing you as you sat at the table, wiping away tears that you didn’t realize were falling. You could hear Zoe calling Lucas every synonym for asshole in the English dictionary. But it fell on deaf ears, the one person you needed to be okay with this had just spat on your dreams in more ways then he knew. 

That was the last time you had talked to Lucas Baker. 

You tried, God knows you tried to get him to talk to you again. Over the last month you lived at the Baker Estate, Lucas retreated further and further away from you and his family. He had never been that close to them, and now because of you he was even more of a ghost to them. Lucas stopped eating dinner with you, he stopped coming out with you and Zoe, he even upgraded his lock on the barn fence so Zoe couldn’t hack it and sneak in. The last time you heard his voice was the night before you left. You were going to give Zoe a box of Lucas’ things you had borrowed and forgotten to give back, a couple of cd’s a movie or two and his LCS zip hoodie.  
They were auguring again, they had had sibling quarrels before but this was different, this was about you. You only managed to catch the end of the argument but it was enough to make you feel like a piece of shit.  
“…We both know what you actually feel Lucas!” Zoe always had a strength to her voice when she yelled, it’s how she managed to guilt trip people so easily.  
“Y/n’s a selfish cunt! Everything I’ve…we’ve done for her and now she’s just gonna up and fuckin’ leave! No! Fuck her, I don’t give a shit, and you’re fuckin’ retarded if you think I do!” Lucas slammed the trailer door open, took one look at you and the box you were white knuckling and stormed off, shoving you out the way and snatching the box as he left.  
That was the last night you spent crying yourself to sleep on Zoe Bakers’ shoulder. 

The next day you packed up your new company car, said goodbye to Jack and Marguerite, you never did quite express how much they meant to you. You practically bear hugged your unoffical sister Zoe, and wished with all your heart that Lucas would at least show up to say goodbye, hell you would have settled for a fuck off, you just wanted to see him. But luck was not on your side that day. You dried your eyes and on Sunday 28th September 2014 you left Dulvey.

10 day’s later you lost contact with the Bakers…

1 year later, after an investigation by the Dulvey Police Department, the Baker family were declared missing and presumed dead. You and your parents reunited for the funeral, you were surprised how many people actually turned up, the Bakers had always been quiet, but friendly, you guessed that made an impact. Your dad had asked you if you wanted the visit the property one last time, laws be damned. You couldn’t bring yourself to do it. If you went there, and saw it empty, that would mean they were really gone. That **he** was really gone. You wouldn’t be able to take it, after all you had almost ran out of tears for Lucas Baker. 

Two years had passed and not a day went by that you didn’t think of the Baker family. Their pictures hanging on your wall, Polaroids of you and the Baker kids hanging out, being happy, decorated your bedroom. You often caught yourself wondering what would have happened if you had just had the courage to tell Lucas how you felt, all that time you worried that you would ruin your relationship with him, but now look at you. Still hung up on a man who has been dead for years now. You would have been with them when they died if you had stayed, but if you had told Lucas how you felt maybe he’d be here with you, safe, alive. 

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You stared out of you bedroom window, out onto the streets of New York, watching the cars go by, and the human traffic walking noisily past your apartment building. You hadn’t been super nostalgic for Dulvey in a really long time. You couldn’t forget about the Bakers, and you would never, ever forget about Lucas, but it was as your roommate Natasha said. “Live for the now, not for the past.”  
What had stirred your nostalgia however was a wedding invitation from your mother. ‘Round two. Maybe she wont cock it up this time.’ You thought gloomily to yourself. You stared down at the glossy white card, the date was set two weeks from now on Monday 1st May 2017. You could easily take the time off work, and if the wedding was a bust you could easily drive down to New Orleans, you were even positive you could rope some of your friends into joining you. It could be fun.  
“Alright then.” You decided, stretching up from your slouched position on your bed. “Looks like I’m going to Dulvey.” 

After two years of avoiding that cursed backwater swamp of a town, you were finally going back to Dulvey, Louisiana. You were finally going home.


	2. Road Trip

You stared out of the passengers side window of the car, as the sleek tarmac highway slowly turned into cracked concrete roads surrounded by an never ending abundance of swamps. The Jeeps’ engine and frame rattled as it made its way over the dilapidated, pothole riddled roads, after a minor incident with a rather large hole in the road, the whole car had been violently jostled about, causing the driver, your friend Martin to shout every curse word he knew at the road, the two other passengers in the back, Natasha, your roommate and Martin’s girlfriend, and Cameron an old friend back from your internship days, just laughed at the situation. You however were now feeling sick to your stomach, it wasn’t just the car ride making you go green at the gills, it was the fact that two minutes ago you had officially entered Dulvey. 

“Stupid fucking yokels! What's so hard about keeping a road up to code!” Martin seethed as he continued down the small town roads.  
“Hay! Not everyone from this town is a yokel, I’ll have you know I’m a bumpkin!” You retort, and your friends laughter filled the car. You’d learned very quickly in New York that you needed to have a humorous outlook on your accent and hometown, because if you didn’t make fun of it, everyone else would, and the insults about you and were you came from hurt a lot more coming out of someone else instead of you. However, as rude as he might have been Martin was right, the roads in this town had always been a major hazard, man if you had a dollar for every time Lucas had nearly landed you both in a ditch because of his reckless driving on these roads…  
'And so it begins', you thought solemnly to yourself. You had wondered when the nostalgia would come crashing back.  
The whole drive down here you’d thankfully been distracted, thanks in no small part to your friends, you were eternally grateful that they had jumped on the chance to take a road trip to Louisiana, because even though your mother promised the wedding would be nice and simple, things with her never were. You’d already informed them to be on their toes on the big day, they needed to be ready to come whisk you away from the inevitable train wreck at a moments notice.  
Feeling bile twist in your stomach you groaned and rolled the window down, the humid air hitting you dead in the face. Yep, you hadn’t missed that. Leaning your head back against the head rest, you breathed deep, trying to calm the nerves running laps in your stomach. Instantly you could smell everything, the damp wetness of the swampy waters, the crisp mossy greenness of the trees around you, the distinct smell of animals, what animals you weren’t sure, but animals none the less, all in all it was nature, it was the smell you associated with childhood adventures, and late night camp outs under the stars with nothing but the fireflies and crickets singing you and your families to sleep. A small smile played on your lips, and an almost contented sigh escaped your breath.  
“Happy to be home?” Natasha questioned leaning forward from her back seat.  
“Not exactly, just nostalgic.” You reply, opening your eyes and turning to face your friend.  
“Ooh about what?” Cameron piped up with a smile that reached his eyes and then some, you internally cringed, the brown shaggy haired man was way too eager, even you could see that. It wouldn’t be so bad if Natasha didn’t bring up at every opportunity that he liked you, it wasn’t that he was a bad person, he just wasn’t your type, and you were pretty sure Natasha had invited him to try and set you two up. He’d even offered to be your wedding date at the start of the trip, which you kindly declined, it’s not that you didn’t appreciate the offer, it’s just that you didn’t want to give the man hope when there was none. Plus he gets handsy when he’s drunk, and the wedding invite said it would be an open bar, and with the dress you were gonna wear, there was no way you were gonna risk a drunken grope from your love sick friend.  
“Just some old friends…” You smiled sadly. You knew this trip was going to be tough you just didn’t realize how quickly you’d be effected by the deep sadness this town held for you.  
“The ones who…” Natasha started.  
“Yeh.” You cut her off before she could finish. She knew a little about the situation, she was your best friend after all. She knew that you had a rough time with your parents, and that you and your mom did not get along, which is why you were so on edge. But she also knew about the Bakers, well, she knew as much as you could bare to tell her. She knew that they were your second family, and they had gone missing sometime in 2014. She also knew not to pry, and above all else, she knew to never, under any circumstances touch the framed picture of you and two others hanging out in New Orleans.  
“Sorry.” Natasha replies as she gingerly places her hand on yours. You’d noticed that about her, she often treated you like you were made of glass. Like anything could irrevocably shatter you into a tiny million pieces. You didn’t know whether it was genuine kindness and concern or condescension, like you couldn’t be trusted to stay strong on your own. You didn’t blame either, if you had a best friend that kept you at arms length so that they didn’t get hurt again, you’d be protective too.  
“Don’t be, I was bound to start reminiscing, it is my home after all. ‘Sides, they aint all bad memories, there’s some good ones in there, really good ones.” You admitted, easing the tension of your friend. It was in that moment you decided you would focus on the positives instead of the many, many negatives. 

The rest of the car ride into town went by quite peacefully, the humidity gave way to a slight breeze, which felt like a cleansing of sorts. The boys chatted about some football game that was happening soon, or it could have been baseball. Truth was you didn’t really care. You and Natasha talked about how good you were going to look in your new dress, and how much cake you could steal without getting noticed.  
As the swamp finally gave way to buildings, your journey finally came to an end when you parked outside the local hotel. It was nothing spectacular, a regular three story brick building, encompassed on either side by local stores. You quickly unloaded the car and checked in. Natasha offered to take charge and let you hang back on that front, you really didn’t feel like making small talk with Mrs Cheryl Harris, the hotel owner, she never had anything nice to say, she was one of those women that was all smiles to your face, but talks shit about you the moment your back is turned, and you didn’t want to hear her talk shit about the people you cared about.  
Your group made it up to your shared room, it was a pretty decent size with two double beds, a couch and tables in the corner, and a huge tv that looked like it came straight out of the 90’s.  
‘That’s Dulvey’ You laughed to yourself as you plopped down on one of the beds. You were exhausted, and would need all your strength for the wedding tomorrow.  
“So what is there to do around here?” Martin casually asked, as he started unpacking his and Natasha’s things. Suddenly all eyes were on you, as your friends looked to you for a satisfying answer.  
“Not a goddamn thing.” You laughed, propping yourself up on your elbows. You hated to admit it, but the looks of absolute confusion on your friends faces was absolutely delightful.  
“Wait what?” Cameron questioned. “There has to be something to do, I mean you grew up here, there has to be something.” It was a desperate plea, from someone who had never spent any time out of big cities, though his bamboozlement was quite addictive, if you were honest.  
“Besides the couple of crappy dive bars that this town has, there is nothing here. Trust me when I say we had to make our own fun.” You teased, if you had to go through the torture of the wedding, you’d put your friends through a little playful torture too. And there was nothing in this world more torturous than a boring night in Dulvey.  
The excitement in your friends deflated like the worlds saddest balloons, as they went back to unpacking. A smug smile played on you lips as you laid back down, once again reminiscing about days long since gone.  
“You know they did once try to make Dulvey more fun.” You stated out loud to no-one in particular.  
“Oh yeah?” You heard Natasha inquire.  
“Yeah, when I was 18, they uh, built an ice rink. But it didn’t last too long, it was only open for a month.” You chuckled.  
“Why’s that?” Cameron asked from his slouched position on the couch.  
“Well what do you expect, when you open an ice rink in the middle of the Bayou? I think only three people in the entire town actually knew how to skate. Hell, the only time I ever went was one blistering day in the summer. Now my friend Zoe, ever the show off, took to it like a duck to water. I however could just about hold my balance, and Lucas…Oh god Lucas. Lets just say the evening ended with him getting arrested cause he threw his ice skates through a window.” You turned your head to face Cameron, laughing heartily. To your surprise the rest of your friends joined in. 

The remainder of the evening was spent in quiet levity, a couple of drinks, some local fast food, that you didn’t realise you had missed so much, and sordid tales of your misadventures with Lucas and Zoe. You even made a quick trip to the local library to prove to them that you were in fact banned from entering, along with pop rocks, confetti cannons and firecrackers. The only thing that could have made the night perfect was if the subjects of your tales were here with you, instead of just a memory. 

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‘Just breathe. It’ll all be over soon.’ You repeated the mantra over in your head for the 3000th time today. You stared blankly into the full champagne flute you had been grasping since the start of this farce of a wedding reception. You would have happily downed it, and be on your sixth by now if you trusted yourself not to beat the shit out of someone whilst you were wasted, and there was always the possibility that the screeching harpy who had handed you the champagne (otherwise known as your mother) had poisoned it. And after her wedding vows, you wouldn’t put it past her.  
You had expected her to be snide to your father at some point during the wedding, but not during the fucking vows. She had stood there in front of everybody, with her smug slapped ass of a face and said out right that your father was the biggest mistake of her life, one she has tried to rectify every day. To sit there in a church full of up-themselves assholes and hear your mother say that everything in her life up till that point was a mistake and a struggle, was mortifying and rage inducing. If you were a petty person you would have said something right there, if you were a violent person you would have punched her in the face, but you were neither of those things, so you had sat through it. Ignored the stares and whispers from her cauldron of friends, and smiled, making a mental strike in you head, three strikes and you where out of there.  
Gloomily your eyes wondered around the tackily decorated Town Hall. You guessed it was supposed to look expensive and elegant, a way to show off to everyone that your mother had money now, and what marrying the chief of staff at the local hospital will get you. But honestly it just looked a cheap mess, like a bomb had gone off at Barbie's dream wedding and splattered the walls around you with its remains. It did not scream elegance and money, it looked more like a two year old had planned the whole thing, which you were starting to believe was your mothers highest capacity of thinking, especially if she thought the Head of Dulvey hospital was anything to brag about, to you it just meant he was too stupid to get a job at a real hospital.  
Yes you were salty, you weren’t too proud to admit it, but you weren’t big enough to just let it go either. So you settled on being a miserable prick for the rest of the evening.

You were jostled violently out of your thoughts when good old Mrs Harris sat down beside you. You managed to stifle a groan. The entire table you had commandeered as your safe haven was open, yet she had decided to sit right beside you. Stinking of booze and cat piss, ‘No’ you told yourself, ‘It’s not her fault your in a bad mood. Smile and suck it up.’  
“Mrs Harris, so good to see you again.” You plastered your best smile on your face, hoping she hadn’t seen you sulking just moments before.  
“Oooh I knew it was you dear.” You gave her a puzzled look. “Yesterday, when the group of city kids came into my hotel.” She clarified.  
“Oh yeah, sorry for not piping up and saying hi yesterday. You know how long road trips are…” You lied.  
“Think nothing of it, I did think you looked like you were in need of a good bath and some rest.” She cheerily remarked as she patted your shoulder. Your eyebrow twitched in annoyance at the rude statement.  
“Yeh….Lovely reception isn’t it.” You commented, trying in vain to steer the conversation anywhere other than the cliff it was heading for.  
“Oh yes, your mother looks absolutely divine doesn’t she. You know I haven’t see her this happy in a long time.” She smiles looking at your mother. You had to admit she did look happy, but considering the last time you really saw her was at a funeral, the only place she could have gone is up.  
“Well it is her wedding.” You reply, finally taking a sip out of the champagne flute.  
“Well its not just that,” The woman starts as you give her a quizzical look. “You finally came back after all those years. Though I can’t blame you for running away, after that debacle with your father, and then the poor Bakers, oh I don’t know how you can face it.” She smiles sweetly at you, as if she has just given you some magical ego boosting pep talk, you can do nothing but stare incredulously at the unwanted woman.  
“Heh…I didn’t run away. I got a job and left.” You finally say with poison lacing your voice. “And furthermore I don’t see what the Bakers have to do with it, or more importantly **Cheryl** , what that has to do with you. Now if you don’t mind, I need more champagne.” You raised your voice as you downed the entirety of you champagne flute and stormed off. Strike 2. 

‘Some fuckin’ people.’ You fumed to yourself as you stalked across the hall to the buffet table, they hadn’t cut the cake yet so your devious plan to steal as many slices as you could was a bust, so instead you just picked at the finger food, you didn’t know what half it was, it all had stupid foreign names you couldn’t pronounce.  
You were just about to try some grey goop on a cracker, when your arm was painfully grabbed , and your body was twisted round to come face to face with one pissed off mother of yours.  
“What the fuck are you doing.” The pissed off bride seethed through her teeth at you.  
“I’m trying the grey stuff, I hear it’s delicious.” You snarked back, holding the grey coated cracker up to your mother. She slapped your hand away causing the food to go flying. The entire hall went silent. Even the band stopped playing. Your mother squared up to you in her puffy white gown. Eyes mad with fury. You’d seen her like this before, whenever she’d argue with your dad, it always ended badly.  
“Cheryl Harris…” She hissed. You simply rolled her eyes and yanked your arm out of your mothers vice like grip.  
“Complained did she? Well maybe if she learned to keep her nose out, I wouldn’t have had to be rude.” You challenged. Matching your mothers hostile stance perfectly. You silently deep within your heart thanked Zoe, she had taught you to stand up for yourself, especially when no-one else would, and now here you were swimming in a tank of sharks and you just got your period.  
“Ooooohh, so now being concerned is considered rude is it hmmm? Or is that just in the big fancy city?” Your mother threw at you, and you heard snickers from the crowd.  
“No but sticking your nose into other peoples business, especially when it’s a sensitive topic, that nobody even brought up in the first place, is!” You yelled. You mother just laughed.  
“Oh somebody feeling guilty is she?” She patronized.  
“What?” You demanded.  
“You left! For years I didn’t see you! And now you come back here and act like the cat just shat in your dinner!” She screeched.  
“You fuckin’ invited me! And lets not forget why I stopped living with you in the first place. You. Kicked. Me. Out! So don’t get all high and mighty on me, claiming that I ran out on you, and then ran away to New York, ‘cause you made it very clear you didn’t want me in your life…” Your rage was threatening to spill over, to stain her white gown red, so you calmed yourself, took a step back and said, “You know, I actually thought for one second, you’d changed. What a joke. You might have invited me here tonight for a reason, but it wasn’t to be a mom, I think it was to spite dad. And you know what it didn’t work, cause he doesn’t even know your getting married today. That’s how little you mean to him, but clearly after the spectacle I’ve seen today, I think **he** still means a hell of a lot to you.” 

SMACK 

The entire reception hall gasped. You stood in silence, the bright red hand print radiating off your left cheek. Your mother took a step back and gasped in horror. Leaving you stood alone in the center of prying, judgmental eyes.  
“Honey, I….Oh god y/n I’m sorry…I….” She started, reaching her hand out to you gently. You simply batted it away.  
“Strike three.” You stated coldly, as you slowly walked away, your heels clicking loudly on the hard wooden floor, the wedding guests parted like the red sea as you walked towards them, you sent a text to Natasha simply stating: Pick me up. 

You were officially done with this town. Now all you wanted to do was get fucking wasted. 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Fifteen minutes later you were packing your stuff away, your elegant dress replaced with ripped jeans and an old band t-shirt and hoodie. Your hair no longer suave and sophisticated, it was loose, untamed. You really didn’t give a fuck, it was only 8:00pm and in two hours you’d be doing jello shots off some random hot guy in the French Quarter.  
Your friends all stood exchanging quick glances between one another, none of them daring to ask were the bruise on you cheek had come from. You were glad for that, because you knew, if anyone asked, you’d breakdown. 

You all piled into Martins’ jeep. The atmosphere around you was tense, however the same couldn’t be said for your friends. The all seemed excited. And they kept sharing looks, as if they were sitting on some big secret. It wasn’t until Martin started driving the wrong way that you realised something was up.  
“Wha…?” You started, your confusion apparently tickled the others as they all started chuckling. “Where the hell are we going, New Orleans is that way.” You demand whilst pointing behind you.  
“Who wants to tell her?” Martin giggles.  
“Oooh me!” Cameron laughs, leaning over the seat to see your face. “We’re going to a haunted house! Ahhhh!” He fake screams.  
“Dulvey has one of them?” You ask confused.  
“Yeah we found it on the internet after you’d gone to the wedding, we thought it’d be awesome to check it out.” Natasha pipes up. Usually she’s very anti-horror, you’d had to hold her hand through a M.Night Shyamalan movie once, and not one of the good ones. You wonder briefly how much she’s had to drink already or what Martin could have possibly promised to do for her, for her to actually go along with this plan. But you’re all for spooky jumpscare fun, in fact you loved the haunted houses that had been put on in New York, but they’d always been in October, and it was barely even May.  
‘Weird.’ You thought, but shrugged it off. “So I take it, standard test of courage rules will apply. Lets say whoever pussies out has to foot the bill in New Orleans?” You add. You friends all loudly agree. You smugly think you’ve got the advantage, growing up with Lucas you’d seen some pretty horrific movies, so whatever the amateur actors in this pop up spookhouse had in store for you was so not going to cut it. 

You once again start to worry, when the street lamps start becoming less and less frequent, and Martin takes the jeep onto the dirt back roads. There’s something in your mind telling you this is familiar, that you know where this road goes…It couldn’t be. They weren’t taking you to….  
“What’s this place called? Who runs it?!” You practically scream, panic slowly washing over you. There was no way they’d want to go there….  
“Who runs it?” Martin laughs. “No-one runs it, y/n it’s a **real** haunted house.” The roads are becoming quite bumpy now as you make your way into the swampy areas you knew oh so well.  
“What’s it called!!” You screech. As the car comes to a stop.  
“Jesus y/n! The Baker Estate!! Are you fuckin’ happy?” Martin yells. Motioning out of the front window. You slowly turn in you seat, willing yourself to be anywhere but here, to have this be some sick prank. Natasha knew your history with the Bakers, she wouldn’t do this, would she?…Had you ever mentioned Lucas’ last name to her? Had you never called them by their family name?  
With one final, agonizingly slow look up, you lock eyes with the enormous main house of the Baker Estate. All the air gets ripped away from you, like you’d just had your lungs forcefully pulled out through your mouth. You don’t know whether to cry, throw up or scream. You just stare at the giant structure, and it almost feels like it’s staring back at you. 

After three long years you were back home…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for more set up, but I promise, the reader goes into the house in the next chapter.


	3. Main Objective: Find The Fuse

Every time you blinked you prayed it would erase the towering building in front of you. The Baker Estate which had once held so much of your love inside, now looked cold, monstrous even as it stood tall surrounded by the blue ink of night, silently mocking you.   
“Hay earth to y/n, come on.” Martin knocked you out of your thoughts as he shoved your arm forcefully. All three of your friends had already unbuckled and gotten out of the car, Cameron had even turned his phone into a flash light. They all looked super excited.   
“No.” You stated, finally tearing your eyes from the building. Giving your friends the most serious look you’d ever had on your face, you hoped it would be enough to convince them to drop the whole stupid idea. But luck was not on your side tonight.   
“What do you mean, no?” Martin replied, his humorous tone replaced with a blunt one.   
“I am not going in there. Call me a pussy, call me a stupid boring bitch, I don’t care. I refuse to go inside that house Martin.” You asserted, crossing your arms as you did.   
“Wow, that place must be really something if it’s scaring you y/n.” Cameron awkwardly chuckled, trying to cut the tension.   
“This house does have ghosts, just not in the way you think.” You somberly reply, sitting back in your chair and softly hugging yourself. If your friends had planned to cheer you up tonight, their plan had seriously backfired.   
“We came all this way y/n,” Natasha cooed. “And I don’t wanna go without you.” She gives you her best puppy-dog eyes, but it doesn’t matter, you can’t force yourself to leave the car. You decide that trying to dissuade the entire group would be pointless, especially with Alpha Martin probably wanting to show off how much of a man he is, instead you make one final desperate attempt to Natasha.   
“Nat, I **can’t** go in there…” You eyes bore into your friends’. You pray that she understands what you’re trying to tell her. “Please…”  
“Oh god…” Natasha’s eyes widen in horror. The realization of what they have done to you paints all over her face. “Y/n I’m sorry. Guys we can’t go in there.” She turns to the boys, and you sigh in relief, if anyone could calm the ego of Martin, it would be her. But it was too late, the boys were already at the front gate.   
“Hold on I’ll go get them.” Natasha smiles, you simply nod, wondering silently if there anything stronger than alcohol you could get in New Orleans. 

You watched silently from the car, as Natasha jogged up to the two men, who were currently shaking the wrought iron gates, and pressing the intercom button over and over in vain. Martin and Cameron turn and happily greet her, and suddenly they go still.   
‘Hopefully now they’ll get back in the car.’ You think to yourself. This whole trip had been a mistake. You made a mental note to never leave New York again once you got back home. You focus again on your friends just in time to see Martin and Cameron share a look before, Martin throws the keys to the car at you and picks Natasha up, running quickly down the side road to the guest house. Cameron laughs heartily and follows his friend.   
“MARTIN WHAT THE FUCK!” You scream at him, as you get out of the car. What the fuck had Natasha said to him to warrant that reaction? Or did he really not give a fuck about your feelings, and just wanted to dance on your second families grave?   
As you moved around the front of the car to retrieve the keys now lying in the dirt, you jumped out of your skin as you thought for a moment you saw a shadowy figure move in one of the dark windows of the house. Quickly standing up, your hyper alert eyes scanned the building again, trying again to see anymore movement, when nothing happened you sighed, dropping your head and leaning down on the hood of the jeep.   
“Long fuckin’ day.” You vented to yourself. Straightening up, you look at the keys in your hand. You could just drive back to the hotel, the guys had taken their phones so when they were done they could just call you and you’d pick them back up. Sure your insurance didn’t cover you driving Martins’ car, and technically it would be grand theft auto, so you could be arrested on that alone. ‘Is it theft if they give you their keys?’ You wondered to yourself. Finally you thought ‘Fuck it.’ You’d asked nicely, now what happened next was on them…

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!” A female scream pierced the air. You quickly turned round to face the direction of the womans scream. It was coming from the guest house trail.   
“Natasha!?” You yelled. You waited, there was nothing. Anxiety started to build in the pit of your stomach, you knew how dangerous that road could be, especially at night. A flashlight app on a phone was not going to cut it, someone could have fallen, gotten hurt. They might need help…You looked back and forth between the trail and the car…  
“Fuck!” You cursed, as you locked the car tight. You gave the main house one final look, and turned on the flashlight app on your phone, rushing down the trail your friends had gone down minutes ago.   
‘They couldn’t have gone too far’ You thought as you ran carefully down the winding dirt road. You held your breath as you reached a gap in the giant fence, you were too busy focusing on your friends to pay attention to the shoddy sign that had been barb wired to the fence, as you ran past it in a blur. Your mind did pick up on two words ‘Accept’ and ‘Gift’.   
Bugs attacked your face as you ran through the towering rocks and trees. There was no sign of your friends. After hearing how close the scream was, surely they couldn’t have gone too far in. As if on cue, you spotted movement up in the distance. You increased your speed, whilst still trying to take care, one wrong slip and you would be swimming in the Bayou.   
“Natasha, Martin!! Guys?” You yelled out again. To no avail. If they weren’t dead already, when you found them, you were going to kill those assholes. 

As you turned a corner you stopped dead in your tracks. Vomit quickly rose in your throat as you came face to face, with a horrific tableau of bones, rope and animal parts. You couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be a warning, or a sick demented welcome. All you knew was this was not here three years ago.   
“Disgusting…” You couldn’t hold back, the sight of it made your skin crawl, but you still couldn’t see your friends, so that left you two options, go back or go forward. You knew that despite your better judgment, you weren’t going to leave your friends behind. Besides the demon artwork brought up a chilling question, one that you cared not to think about. Who made it?   
As you crouched down to crawl through the gap in the rope, you had to stifle a scream of your own. The thing was dripping. Meaning it was fresh. The implication of it almost made you dial 911. But you knew you couldn’t, after all you were trespassing on condemned property. You quickly stood back up on the other side of the worlds worst art piece and shook yourself, praying to god, that none of the slime got in your hair.   
“Natasha!” You yelled once more. You were starting to get desperate.   
“Y/n!” You heard your friend yell back, as you raced towards the voice, stopping just in time as you came face to face with a quite substantial drop. You searched around the blackness, your phone light barely illuminating a foot in front of you.   
“Nat were are you?” You asked, still searching through the dark.   
“Down here.” You quickly turned your phone in the direction of her voice and saw her leaning up against the outer wall of the guest house, and you jumped. You didn’t even think about it, you just needed to make sure she was okay. You landed safely on your feet, silently thanking god that you wore jeans and combat boots tonight. You quickly made your way over to her, once you reached her she startled you by pulling you into a deep hug, one you reciprocated immediately.   
“Are you okay? I heard you scream, did something happen? Are Martin and Cameron okay?!” You babbled. Holding her at arms length, trying to examine her face, she didn’t seem hurt. So it had to be one of the others.   
“Y/n, I’m sorry.” Natasha looked sad. Sadder than you’ve ever seen her.   
“Why?” You didn’t understand.   
“Hay Tasha, we got the door open.” Cameron came running over, giddy with excitement. He stopped when he saw you. “Oh yes, Martin get over here, it worked!” He yelled to the man behind him.   
“Worked? What worked?” You demanded.   
“We wanted you to come with us, so we made a plan.” The too happy man smiled. You immediately dropped Natasha.   
“Your scream…Did you even try to explain to them why I didn’t want to come, or did Martin bat his eyelashes at you again?” You barked. Disappointment was starting to become the new normal today, first your mother and now her.   
“He thought it would help you, if you confronted the past…” Natasha replied mousily.   
“Taking one psych class doesn’t make him a qualified psychiatrist.” You snap back. Natasha drops her head in shame, and a wave of guilt washes over you.   
“Y/n calm down, I know this is hard, but it’ll be good for you in the end, trust me.” Cameron chimes in, as he puts a reassuring hand on your arm, which you quickly shrug out of.   
“Trust you, after the stunt you’ve just pulled? What did you think was gonna happen Cameron hmmm? I’d be forced through the abandoned home of the people I cared most about in the entire world, and then all my troubles would disappear? That I‘d take a merry jaunt through all my pain and suffering and then offer to buy everyone a round later? If you had any idea what **this** feels like, you would not be tellin’ me to ‘calm down’.” You ranted, and he too hung his head in shame. 

You three stood there for what seemed like an eternity, no-one daring to say a word to the other, when Martin came bumbling over, seeming very pleased with himself.   
“Ahhh, so nice of you to join us y/n.” His arrogance permeated the air, once again you had to question whether you were a violent person as an almost uncontrollable urge to punch him in his face washed over you. But before you could say anything Cameron, to your surprise, spoke up.   
“Look man, we’re going back to the car…We shouldn’t be here.” He admitted.   
“Martin, we should leave.” Natasha added.   
Martin just stared at them like they had grown three heads each.   
“What the fuck? You guys were up for it a second ago.” Martin laughed. “You pussy out, or did the buzz kill over here, guilt trip you?” He motioned to you.   
“It’s not exactly guilt trippin’ if you’re doing something wrong.” You asserted, Martin growled and took a step towards you. Natasha quickly intervened holding her hands to her boyfriends chest.   
“Baby think about it, would you like being forced through your dead families’ old home?” She tried, but Martin wasn’t having it.   
“They weren’t even her real family!” He yelled, and you'd officially had it. Taking the few steps left towards him, you shoved Natasha out of the way, drawing back your hand and slapping him across his face.   
“YES THEY WERE!” You scream to him. “They were more my family than anyone else in this godforsaken town!! They meant the world to me, and I never told them…I never told him…and then I left and they were just gone!” Tears were streaming down your face as three years worth of pain was dragged back up to the surface. “I wanted to spend the rest of my life with…but I can’t… it took me three years to climb out of the hell this put me through, and now, you’ve thrown me face first back in it, cause you think tragedy is a fun roadside attraction you can post about on Facebook! So fuck you Martin, you don’t know a goddamn thing about it…” 

Natasha and Cameron stood in shock, waiting on baited breath for whatever happens next, as were you. You’d never hit anybody out of malice before, your hand was throbbing with pain, and your whole body was trembling, it felt as though you’d been dropped head first into ice cold water. Martin however stood silently, holding his cheek, in very much the same vain you had been not two hours before. You were officially as bad as your mother. It was not a nice feeling.   
“I’m sorry…” Martin said, at almost a whisper.   
“What…?” You were confused, yes he’d been a complete asshole, but you had just hit him. If he hadn’t apologized in that second, you would have. “Martin, I…”  
“Y/n, it’s okay…I’m…I’m really sorry. I didn’t…I thought….We can leave.” He conceded. Cameron and Natasha sighed with relief, and started for the drop you’d just come down. Instead of following them straight away you hugged Martin. It was only the second time you ever had, so you knew he’d understand it meant something.   
“Thank you…and I’m sorry too.” You apologized, as you felt Martin squeeze you a little.   
“I know, sorry I’m an asshole.” He smiled.   
“Sorry I’m an emotional wreck.” You smiled back.   
“I think you get a pass on that this time.” You both laughed. The tension somewhat alleviated, but until you were gone from this graveyard, you wouldn’t be content.   
“Hey guys, we’ve got a problem.” Cameron jogged back to you, a downtrodden Natasha at his heels.   
“What?” Both you and Martin said.   
“Unless we all stack on top of one another, we ain’t getting back that way.” Cameron motioned to the cliff side you’d all dropped down. You all looked at the towering piece of rock, and dread filled your soul once more. What had seemed like a non consequential drop turned out to be at least 12 foot tall. Cameron and Martin combined wasn’t even that tall. So either of them boosting you and Natasha up was out of the question. You were stuck. You quickly looked at your phone, you didn’t like the idea of calling the fire department or police to come get you, but desperate times, and you would do anything to avoid the **other** option.   
“Fuck!” You grunted in anger, you phone was unable to get any reception. “Fuckin’ typical! No signal.” Your friends quickly checked their own phones and a symphony of disgruntled cries played out.   
“What are we gonna do now?” Natasha cried, quickly looking between you and Martin, as if you two held all the answers for her.   
“We could try throwing each other up…” Cameron chimed in.   
“Shut the fuck up.” Martin chastised him.   
“I don’t see you coming up with any ideas.” Cameron retorted.   
“Why should I?” Martin questioned.   
“Because this was your stupid idea in the first place…'hay why don’t we break into the old creepy house'…oh yeah Martin great plan.” Cameron mimicked sarcastically. Another argument was bubbling just under the surface, you could tell from his voice and mannerisms that Cameron was starting to panic. You didn’t blame him, this place was ridiculously unsettling. Sighing, you looked back up at the guest house, there was no other choice, you hated yourself for what you were about to suggest, especially after the fuss you’d put up. But there was no other way.   
‘I should have just stolen the car…’ You think to yourself, before cutting into the argument the others were having. “Hey guys….HEY!” They all turn and look at you. “I know a way to get back to the car.”   
“How?” Natasha asked, a glimmer of hope in her eyes.   
“There should be a way out through the attic.” You point up at the building, and their eyes slowly follow it.   
“But…what about….” Natasha takes a tentative step forward.   
“It’s not like I have a choice, lets just get this over with. I want this night to be done.” You state, turning away from the group and walking stone faced to the front of the house, ignoring the fact that the windows were now barricaded and covered in barbed wire, you pause for a moment at the busted down front door. It smells of mothballs, dust and something foul, but underneath it all was something so very familiar, and it hurt. You turn again to look at your friends, who haven’t moved an inch from were they were standing. “Well don’t just stand there, come on.” You almost forcefully tell them. And they all spark to life, quickly joining you at the threshold. “Just stay close to me.” You sigh before taking those first dreaded steps into the vestibule. 

As you walk down the corridor, with your friends close behind, you notice all the damage the property has come to over the years. There was mud and dirt everywhere, the place was fucking filthy, paintings had fallen of the cracked and broken walls and were now littering your path, if this was the condition of the guest house you dreaded what the main house looked like. You rounded the corner into the kitchen, and it came as no surprise when it was just as disgusting as the first part of the house. You walked slowly up to an abandoned stew pot left on the table, you clutched the cold copper tightly and closed your eyes, reminiscing about Marguerite’s cooking, she always took great pride in what she made, and never once did she ask for help, but neither she nor you could deny how much her eyes lit up when you or Zoe would offer to help, asking to learn from her. Without thinking you open the lid, instantly gagging on the smell of rotten meat. What ever it was before has turned putrid, a part of you even thinks it’s moving, and it was…You scream and throw the lid as a cockroach crawls over your hand, your outburst causes your friends to almost, if not definitely, shit their pants.   
“Jesus Christ!! Y/n what happened?” Cameron asks as he rushes to your side, you’re too busy rubbing you hand clean with your sleeve to really focus on him.  
“Fuckin’ cockroach!” You reply, still rubbing at your hand.   
“Heh heh…Aw, come here.” Cameron patronizes you as he gives you a side hug, whilst chuckling to himself.   
“You would have done the same.” You sigh as you shrug out of his hug, continuing on your journey through the house. You’re almost out of the kitchen when Natasha calls you back.   
“Hey, y/n look at this.” She standing by the table and as you join her you see the object of her attention. A local newspaper dated not too long ago. It’s front page articles were chilling to say the least: Ghosts Sighted in The Bayou & Over 20 Missing in 2 Years.   
“The Bakers were just the first…” You mumble to yourself, it was moments like this that made you grateful for leaving, even if that feeling only lasted for a little while. “Come on.” You urge to you friend, pulling her away from the ominous newspaper, it does however leave a thought in you head. What if the meat shrine and the barbed wire had something to do with all the missing people. ‘Just another reason to get the fuck out of here as quickly as possible’ You think to yourself.   
You head into the next hallway, with the stairs to the second floor, as you start to ascend you realize quickly that your attic plan could possibly be a bust.   
“Ah no! Goddamnit!” You vent in frustration as you get to the top of the stairs, your friends quickly join you.   
“What? What’s wrong?” Martin asks.  
“The fuckin’ stairs are gone.” You motion to the empty room around you. “You see this?” As you point to the button controlling the stairs. “It controls the stairs to the attic and…” You hit it, and your friends wait in anticipation for something to happen. “Nothin’…All though…the lights on, which means this place still has power…? No, it can’t.” You walk around the corner to a desk, where a dusty lamp sits, you don’t think for a second it would actually work when you flick the switch to it, but it does. Illuminating the entire second floor. “Heh, Lucas you sonofa’ bitch, you actually did it…” Lucas had always joked about taking the entire Estate ‘off the grid’, hell he’d even shown you how he’d do it, but you never thought he’d gotten around to doing it. You had to commend his work, especially if it was still working, three years after he’d gone.   
“If we’ve got power, how come this piece of shit isn’t working.” Martin asked whilst repeatedly hitting the button.   
“I dunno…Maybe…Follow me.” You instruct heading back down the stairs, and like stray puppies your friends follow you without question. Your group heads down the corridor, past the storage alcove and enter the abandoned sitting room, which is lit up by the snowy static playing on an old tv. As your friends start looking around you head to the fuse box which is shut on the wall. Opening it up, your suspicions are confirmed. The third fuse, that was for the stairs, was missing. Without it you could kiss the attic goodbye.   
“Tch…shit.” You rest your head on the flaking wallpaper beside you. “Guys we gotta find the fuse to get outta here.” You announce to the group.   
“Well how hard can that be, how big is this place?” Cameron asks.   
“Well you’ve got the first floor, which we’re on, that has this room, the kitchen and the bathroom, then you’ve got the second floor, which you’ve seen, then downstairs is the rumpus room, pantry and then the rest of the massive basement.”   
“Fuck.” Cameron weakly says in defeat, as he flops down onto one of the dusty brown leather armchairs. Coughing slightly as the dust fills his lungs. You rub your temples as you join Martin and Natasha by the fireplace.   
“Any suggestions.” Martin asks, leaning casually on mantle of the fireplace.   
“One, but Nat’s not gonna like it.” You reply.   
“Oh, what?” Your friend moans, fear in her voice.   
“We split up. Martin, you and Cameron take this floor, checking everywhere we’ve been, and Nat, you take the second floor, its a smaller space, so one person could do it.” You suggest.   
“Sounds alright, but what about you? You said the basement was huge.” Martin added.   
“It’s fine, I spent a lot of time down there when I lived here, me and Lucas used to sneak into the mines through the rumpus room, when everything just go too…I can handle the basement just fine.” You affirmed.   
“Sounds like a plan.” Martin announces, clapping his hands together. “Lets do this.” He states as he walks away from the fireplace, finally revealing something his back had been hiding. You let out a stifled gasp as you see the old family photo of the Bakers. It was Lucas and Zoe as tiny children, sitting peacefully with their parents on the couch. You remembered that day, it was Marguerite's birthday, you and your parents had gone over for dinner, and all Marguerite wanted was a nice picture of her family all together, your dad had happily volunteered to take the photo, and your mom had bribed Lucas and Zoe with the cake she had brought over in order for them to sit still for 3 seconds. As soon as the flash had gone off on the camera Lucas and Zoe were up again demanding their cake.   
You let out a light chuckle, as tears once again formed in your eyes. They were all so young in the photo, except Jack who had always looked like a 50 year old to you.   
“That’s them isn’t it.” Natasha said, her hand gently rubbing your back.   
“Yeah, Jack, Marguerite, Zoe and Lucas.” You pointed to each one individually . “The Bakers…Right, fuse.” You quickly changed the topic to the matter at hand, gingerly wiping away any stray tears that had fallen. “If you find the fuse just yell, the walls of this place are so thin I’ll hear it, trust me.” You friends all nodded in agreement and you all went your separate ways. 

You pushed the door to the basement rumpus room open, it too was in complete shambles, but you didn’t know what else you were expecting. The tv and Jukebox were missing, no doubt tons of people had come through here and stripped it clean, especially if there were internet stories about this place. You cringed thinking about how many amature YouTube videos had been done about this place.   
As you looked around the small stone walled room, you quickly realised you were in way over your head. What the hell were you thinking? Checking the entirety of the basement alone. The truth was you wanted some time to yourself, some time apart from your friends. It was becoming more and more likely that you’d be trapped here until someone came looking for your group.   
“F..fuck.” You cried, hands running through your hair. You didn’t know what to do. You were lost, desperate, for someone to save you. Not knowing where to go you slumped on the couch, not caring that the dust and mold was getting on your face, balling your fists up in anger and frustration you screamed into the dirty old couch cushions, hoping it would muffle your cries. You wanted nothing more than for the couch to swallow you whole and take you away from this nightmare. You were exhausted, the amount of emotional whiplash you’d encountered today had left you drained, you wanted to be back in your apartment, somewhere safe and warm, somewhere without the constant depressing memories. Your screams turned slowly to desperate whimpers and you started to feel a headache coming on from the amount of tears you had shed. Your eyelids started to become heavy, you wanted to fall asleep, maybe you’d feel better if you did. You could take a nap, if your friends got worried or couldn’t find the fuse, they knew where you were. Maybe it would be easier to think and to look for the fuse if you got some shut eye.   
Turning your back to the open archway door to the now empty pantry, you brought your knees to you chest, taking deep breaths as you willed yourself to fall asleep. To your surprise, it started to work, you felt calm for the the first time tonight as you felt yourself slowly drifting away. 

SCRRRRRRRCHHH!! 

You were shook violently out of your calm, as a harsh sound ripped through the air, it was like wood being dragged across the concrete floor. It was one of those noises that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You would have turned around and gotten up to check it out, if it hadn’t been for one thing, the footsteps that were coming from the empty pantry area. You had not yet fallen asleep so you knew, none of your friends had come in the room to check on you, but what you did know was that the pantry was the entrance to the mines, and that the entrance was covered by heavy wood, and you also knew that there was someone else in the room with you, because you could hear them breathing.   
You don’t know why exactly your mind decided that the best course of action would be to lie perfectly still and hoped they didn’t see you, you had no idea who was behind you, but you knew for a goddamn fact that it wasn’t a fucking T-Rex from Jurassic Park. Maybe if you could convince them you were sleeping they’d leave you alone, so you tried, in vain, to settle your breathing. Especially when you heard the footsteps coming closer to your vulnerable form.   
“Hahaha-oo-Ee! Looks like I just won the jackpot!” The mystery person laughed out loud coming ever closer, you however where dumbstruck, that voice, you knew it, oh god did you know it…It had to be a coincidence. He was gone…This couldn’t be… “Well now, lets have a look at the goods shall we.” He was right behind you now, you could practically feel him, and you knew who it was, you’d heard that voice a thousand times and never in your wildest dreams dd you think you’d hear it again.   
“Lucas?” You asked as you turned around and sat up, coming face to face with Lucas Baker. He was wearing his LCS hoodie and what you thought were beige jeans, you couldn’t exactly tell as the whole outfit was filthy, it matched the interior of the house perfectly. His hood was up, casting harsh, ugly shadows over his face, oh that face, you’d missed it. The pronounced cheekbones that could cut glass, the hooked nose that complimented his thin smirking lips perfectly, his deep set crystal blue eyes that always seemed to be staring deep into your soul. There were differences however, his stubble had come in a little more, the bags under his eyes were almost painful looking and his overall complexion was paler, but this was Lucas Baker alright. It was definitely him. “Lucas?” You announced once more in disbelief, reaching your hand out to touch the mans face.   
His eyes widened and he quickly retracted, avoiding your touch, to stand with his back to you in the archway he had just come from. Unsure of what to do, but knowing you couldn’t let Lucas run away, you stood, nervously rubbing your hands together. You needed to know if he was real or had you finally lost it.   
“Lucas it’s me…It’s…” You took small steps towards the tall man. Afraid he’d disappear into smoke.   
“I know.” He bluntly cut you off. “I know it’s you y/n, what…what’re you doing here?” He still refused to turn and face you. “You shouldn’t be here.” His cold voice reverberated over the stone walls, and something inside you snapped.   
“I shouldn’t be here!” You yelled. Grabbing his shoulder and forcing him to look at you. “What the fuck are you doing here! I thought you were DEAD!!” You spat at him. Your bliss in seeing him again had turned to venom, how could he still be alive, how was he standing here? Had it all been some sick twisted lie?   
Lucas remained silent as you glared at him.   
“The police searched for you! **I** searched for you! I went to your fuckin’ funeral, I mourned for you! What, was this all some sick prank, did the entire town get a fuckin’ great big laugh at my misery. Did you really hate me that much?!...Well…!?” Still not a word came out of the man, his face however was pained, it was almost as if he was being torn between something. Like he was silently making the biggest decision of his life. “Say something…!! Lucas!!” You screamed hitting him limply in the chest. As you pounded on his thin chest, Lucas’ eyes glinted, as if he’d made up his mind.   
“Oh y/n, I don’t hate you.” Lucas laughed as he grabbed your wrists. “Ah never could…” He takes a deep sniff of your hair, and groans in pleasure, an act that causes a flash of heat to run through your body.   
“L..Lucas…” You blush, trying to remove your wrists from his grasp, his sudden change in tone unsettled you, Lucas had never been this forward before, at least not that you had noticed, in response to you trying to loosen his grip on you, Lucas clamped down harder, with more strength than you thought a man of his build would have had. “Lucas, let me go.” You faltered.   
“No, never again.” Lucas replied as he pulled you into a rib breakingly tight hug, letting go of your wrists and moving his hands to your waist and your head, his nose nuzzled in the crook of your neck, once again breathing in the scent of your hair. And despite your instincts telling you to run, to get the fuck out of there and never look back, you wrap your arms around him. Needily you cling to him like a starving animal, like you hadn’t been touched in years. You never wanted to let go.   
Lucas leans back, moving his cold hand from the back of your head to your face, his thumb lightly brushes over your cheek in an act of tenderness that is in stark contrast to how he’s been acting tonight.   
“I’m never letting you go.” Lucas stares at your lips for a fraction before licking his own, slowly he starts to lean down, his sweet lips centimeters away from your desperate ones….

A crash from above, and the shrill scream of Natasha pulls you out of the moment, you manage to push yourself away from Lucas as you desperately look at the ceiling.   
“Nat?” You whimper out. The screaming and crashing continues, it sounds as if she’s running, and being followed by some heavy ominous footsteps. You make a break for the door, you needed to help your friend, but Lucas’ arms snake around your waist. Stopping you dead in your tracks.   
‘When did he get this strong?’ You frantically think to yourself. “Let me go Lucas, now!! I’ve gotta help my friends!” You struggle, as he constricts his arms, making breathing harder. “Ahhhhh!” You let out a cry of pain, and he stifles a giggle.   
“So delicate. My little Princess” He loosens the vice like grip just enough to stop the pain. “Don’t worry about your friend, Daddy’s gonna take good care of them, besides what’dya need them for, you’ve got me…”   
“Daddy? Jack? Jack’s alive too? How? How is this possible?” You stuttered. Your brain was unable to comprehend was was happening.   
“Whoohoo, somebody’s impatient. Didn’t they have manners in fancy ol’ New York. I don’t have time to explain it all to ya.” Lucas laughed in your ear, your body suddenly tensed up as Lucas wrapped a strong hand around your neck and started to squeeze, cutting off your air supply. “We’ve got a dinner to get to.”   
Your hands desperately scratched at Lucas’ hoodie. Black was quickly crashing down on you as the oxygen in your body quickly ran out. As your vision started to fade and your hearing became muddy you heard Lucas whisper in your ear,  
“Welcome Home Y/n.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy this one kind of became a runaway train, almost twice as long as the previous chapter.


	4. Homecoming Dinner

Cold. That what you felt. Just cold. In every sense of the word. You were barley conscious, you kept fading in an out, never managing to wake up fully. Your head was throbbing so intensely you couldn’t even manage to open your eyes. You could feel the cold night air swirling around you face and body, chilling you to your core, a the breeze hits you, it feels like death is tracing it’s bony fingers over your vulnerable flesh. Though you can’t open your eyes, you know with an absolute certainty that you are moving, and more so, you are being carried, delicately, in someones arms…No, not someones, Lucas. You were being carried, bridal style, in Lucas’ arms. You would have wept, if you could. However the ever waring emotions inside you, kept you from feeling much of anything. In the three seconds you were wrapped around each other in the basement, you felt more elation than you ever had before, you knew it was cliched, but it was if you were seeing the sun for the first time, feeling it’s warmth and intensity washing over you, making you wish for time to stop and to be trapped in that moment for eternity. Half of you wanted to wrap your arms around his neck, and snuggle into his chest as he carried you off into this twisted abyss you found yourself at the precipice of. But the other half, the half not blinded by foolish love, was terrified, he was supposed to be dead, as was his father. Yet here they both were. Was it just them, or were all the members of the Baker family alive? Living in the twisted decaying remains of their once beloved estate. You couldn’t understand why any of this was happening, you weren’t even sure what **was** happening.  
Lucas. He had hurt you. Strangled you until you passed out. He had laughed when he gripped you so tight you felt your ribs buckle. Lucas wouldn’t do that, not your Lucas, the real Lucas. Sure he had always had a violent streak, something your were adamant he had inherited from his father, but never in a million years had he ever hurt you, not physically.  
But it wasn’t just you that had been hurt. Natasha. Martin. Cameron. What had Jack done to them? You were positive you had been spared by Lucas. But your friends, they were complete strangers, breaking into a demons’ nest. Natasha’s banshee like scream echoed loudly through your foggy mind. It reminded you of an animal. An animal being trapped and slaughtered. She didn’t deserve this. None of them did. That’s when guilt started to creep into your veins. You had gotten your friends killed. Even if they weren’t dead already, an alarm in the back of your mind told you they would be very soon.  
You had told them to come with you to Dulvey. You had left them alone to find this place. And you had walked them straight into the trap Jack had clearly set. **You**.  
As pain once again took you over, and the suffocating blanket of unconsciousness came flooding back. You begged for forgiveness, knowing deep down there was no-one left to forgive you…

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Lucas looked down at your unconscious form held tightly in his arms. He smiled to himself. On the rare occasions that he slept, he had dreamed of you. Sometimes they were pleasant dreams, of you wrapped tightly around him, lounging on the sofa, watching some stupid film you’d both watched a thousand times before. Other dreams were passionate and intimate, your naked body writhing with pleasure under him, your voice screaming his name like a prayer, but they always left him hard, frustrated and desperately wanting the real thing. But the final type of dream was disturbing, and started shortly after Evelyn arrived. He dreamed of making you pay for leaving him, of torturing you and making you bleed from every orifice, until you begged him to stop and pleaded for forgiveness. He wanted you to feel how much your abandonment had scarred him, by scarring you in the worst possible ways, and then finally he would drag you head first into the twisted fucked up world his life had become, making you as much a monster as he was.  
Lucas held you tighter. Your face twisted in your sleep. He wondered what you were dreaming of. Was it him? Was it what was about to happen? Because he knew, there were two options now. One, Evelyn hates you, thus making you next weeks dinner or worse a mindless molded. Or two, she infects you.  
Lucas cursed silently to himself, a year ago he wouldn’t have cared if you got infected, but back then he was still under Evelyn’s control. But now. Now he was free. Lucas looked towards his father, mindlessly dragging the people you had called friends. He didn’t want you to become a mindless puppet, doing everything Evelyn told you to do without hesitation, just because she had said so. But the deeply twisted part of him couldn’t help but think of the possibilities that would open up if you were immortal like him. He hated to sound like one of those saps from a stupid romantic movie, but the idea of you being together forever appealed to him, and he couldn’t deny that the idea of Evelyn making you love him was something he desperately wanted. But would it be the same if he knew it wasn’t real? Lucas shook his head, he decided to put those questions aside and figure them out later. Right now he had to convince Evelyn you were worth keeping around. 

Lucas and Jack finally entered the main house, and instantly heat started returning to your almost ice like flesh. As Lucas continued for the dinning room, Jack ventured left, heading towards the scorpion door.  
“Lucas now go on and make sure y/n gets the best seat at the table. This is a night of celebration after all, boy I can’t wait to see Marguerite's face light up when she sees her. I’m gonna go put our guests here, in their rooms downstairs, to ferment just a bit. We’ll deal with them later.”  
Lucas simply nodded, and silently hoped he could use them in some games he had planned. As he carried you through the house, Lucas thought back on his memories of you. Several of which had kept him going in some very dark times. He was so engrossed in himself that he failed to see Zoe, or her look of abject horror as she came out of the laundry room. Before she had a chance to open her mouth Lucas had walked past her, into the dining room. He placed you gently down in a chair and headed to the draw to get some duct tape. He couldn’t have you running off when you woke up like the last guy they’d had to dinner.  
Once he was sure your hands were secure he drew a chair up right next to yours and sat down, he took this moment to appreciate the calm on your face, because he knew them moment you woke up things wouldn’t be so peaceful any more. You would surely fight, but like everyone else that had come before you, you would lose. 

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Something smelled horrendous. It was as if putrid burning meat had hate fucked a diseased landfill and whatever puss filled offspring it had birthed was shitting itself inside your nostrils. It was without a doubt the worst thing that had ever woken you up.  
You shook your head as you slowly opened your eyes, hoping in vain that it would shake the smell from your nose. All it did was accentuate the headache that was threatening to crack your head open. You let out a pained groan as you finally sat up straight in your wooden chair.  
“Rise and shine sleepyhead.” A familiar female voice cooed. That’s when you remembered where you were, and you finally took in the scene that was laid out in front of you.  
You were strapped tightly to a creaky busted chair in your old dining room. Candles painted the entire area in a deep golden haze. The only other light source being a small lamp that had been left on in the kitchen opposite from where you sat. The once clean circular table that you had enjoyed countless meals at, was now just as filthy as the guest house and then some. Plates upon plates of stale rotten, cooked offal covered the large wooden surface, threatening to spill over to the floor. You now understood where the stench was coming from.  
Where there were once welcoming happy people dining together as a family, there were now monsters. You had already seen Lucas’ transformation but that was nothing compared to his parents. Whilst they had both lost their complexions to the pale, practically grey skin that Lucas had, there were startling differences in both of them. Jack’s face had become gaunt, his eyes almost completely sunken into his large skull. His filthy yellow shirt hung loose on his body, giving him an almost shambling zombie look, he’d also lost more of his hair, and his hands were dirty, cut up and bloody. You dare not question why, in fear of the answer. Marguerite on the other hand was another type of monster. Her once kind face had become almost unrecognizable, her eyes and cheeks had become bloated like a corpse, or perhaps a decaying praying mantis. Her long brown hair had lost it’s shine and become thinner and ratty as it hung limply in her side ponytail. She too was covered in filth, you could see scraps of offal under her nails, sticking to her hands like leaches, and to your up most disgust she was eating the flesh laid out on the table. It turned your stomach so violently you would have thrown up then and there if you weren't so afraid.  
You were however confused by the last person in the room. The place where Zoe had once sat, was a frail elderly woman. She had a healthier complexion than the Bakers that surrounded you, but looked no less close to death. She looked so thin and sickly to you, you thought it a miracle that she managed to stay upright in her wheelchair. You wondered silently to yourself who this old woman was. Was she a part of this sick twisted life that had consumed Lucas and his family? Or was she just another victim, forced to endure this demented family meal just as you were? 

Jack slammed his hands onto the table causing you to jump and let out a small scared yelp. The man looked enraged. Like he was ready to cave your head in with his bare hands.  
“Aren’t you gonna say anything? Marguerite made this meal ‘specially for you, and you ain’t even said thank you!! Now you know how I feel about RUDENESS!!!” He slams his hands down again, as he violently rises from his chair, sending it crashing down to the floor below.  
“Thank You!” You spit out faster than you thought possible. Your breath comes out in quick heavy puffs as fear takes up permanent residence in your heart, you throw a quick glance to Lucas, who has a faint trace of worry on his face, as he carefully eyes his father, like a snake charmer does to a King Cobra, looking for any sign he might attack. His eyes briefly make contact with yours before he nods subtly in his mothers direction, causing yours to be focused on the matriarch of the house. The older woman is beaming at you, like she used to whenever she would make something special, you knew that she needed to be placated, she was always sensitive towards her cooking, so god knows what this demon version of Marguerite would be like if you didn’t give her the compliments she craved.  
“Honestly Marguerite, tha…thank you so much. I didn’t think…um…I’d be this welcomed.” Sweat trickles down the back of your neck. You hold your breath, hoping that it was enough to calm the beasts in front of you.  
Jack lets out a hearty chuckle as he picks his chair off of the ground and sits back down, and Marguerite smiles creepily from ear to ear, it’s disturbing and fucked up, and you wonder how much more of this you can take before you lose your mind.  
“Of course you’re welcome y/n, you’re part of the family.” Marguerite coos as she leans over and places a sweaty grey hand over your trapped one. It takes everything you have left not to recoil from her touch. You don’t know why but it just feels wrong. Like your body is rejecting this act of kindness. It felt like a trap, maybe the snake allegory wasn’t so far off. These people were snakes, and you were a tiny frail mouse they’d invited to dinner.  
“However it was mighty rude of you not to call and tell us you were coming.” Marguerite continues as she shovels offal into her mouth with her hands. At the sound of the word ‘rude’ Jack stops taking a swig of his beer to raise an eyebrow at you, as a sinking feeling sits in the pit of your stomach.  
“W..well, I didn’t…I didn’t know you still lived here. You know…on the account of you being presumed dead an’ all.” You blurt out, unthinking.  
“Ooops. Guess we forgot to tell ya.” Marguerite shrilly laughs, Jack quietly chuckles along with his manic wife. You start to turn your head to Lucas, hoping he can give you some silent advice, you couldn’t believe that the man who had just choked you out was the sanest person in the room, barring the old woman, who was yet to do anything. But your mind was quickly pulled back to Marguerite, who had started squeezing on your hand, a part of you thought it was supposed to be sincere and kind, but due to the inhuman strength they had all seemed to gain, it felt as if she were crushing it.  
“I am so glad you’re back sweetie. It just hasn’t been the same since you went away. Why, I don’t think I’ve seen Lucas this happy in years,” Your eyes glance over to Lucas, whose gaze is planted firmly on the ground. “And with you back, I bet Zoe will want to…” Marguerite continues.  
“Marguerite.” Jack warns. “You know not to mention that name at this table.”  
“But Jack, if Zoe sees y/n then she’ll want to be with us, I just know it. Then we can all be a family again.” Marguerite lets go of your hand, to turn and face her husband. You notice it has left some black, mold like substance on your skin, but it’s at the back of your mind, as you are currently trying to understand the situation in front of you. Their animosity towards Zoe however did give you some hope, that maybe, just maybe she wasn’t like the rest of her family.  
“Shut the hell up Marguerite!” Jack yells, once again standing up from the table. You see that Lucas tenses, just as much as you do. This time however Marguerite joined her standing husband. They squared up to one another, and you couldn’t help but have flashbacks to your own parents fighting.  
“Don’t tell me to shut up Jack! She’s our daughter!!” She yells, causing you to flinch. She never once raised her voice before. And if your past experiences with your own family told you anything, it was that someone was going to get hurt.  
“DAUGHTER!” Jack bellows flipping the table, and scattering viscera everywhere, a speck of blood soaked meat hits you on the cheek and you squeal in response. Lucas is also now up on his feet, he looks almost ready to dive in between his parents, at any given moment. “Do you forget what our ‘‘daughter’’ has done to us Marguerite! How she has abandoned us, turned on us, spat in the face of our dear Evelyn’s love?” Jack rebutted, his voice getting louder on every other syllable. Marguerite’s shoulders slumped, as Jack tentatively places his hands on them, it was caring and kind, a sad echo of who they used to be. It left you wondering even more so what had happened and who this Evelyn was.  
“Oh, I’m so sorry Jack. I’ve ruined dinner. This was supposed to be a nice homecoming for y/n.” The three Bakers all turn to you, as if they’ve just remembered you’re here. You feel as if you should say something, to ease the tension. But nothing comes to mind. You just sit there blank faced, mouth slightly agape, waiting for something else to happen.  
“Alright now, Lucas you go on and take y/n back to the barn, make sure she’s comfortable, we can’t have her running off before she gets a proper meal here.” Jack states calmly, as he and Marguerite start to pick up the discarded ‘meal’. 

Lucas comes forward and easily rips the tape off of you. Causing you to cry out in pain. Before you can sooth you aching wrists, Lucas pulls you up.  
“Come on.” He orders without emotion. He drags you out of the room, and you notice the stairs have been demolished. You wonder briefly why, before settling on Jack’s uncontrollable rage, because the other thought you had, the one that involved victims not being able to run away, was just too fucked up to think about. Lucas pulls you silently through the corridor, and you wonder why he isn’t saying anything. In fact he hadn’t said one word during the entire ‘dinner’. Usually Lucas’ silence didn’t bother you, it was just the way he was sometimes, but that was the old Lucas, this new Lucas was unpredictable, and his silence was not helping.  
“So…You **are** all alive…Well close enough.” You don’t know what possessed you to start asking questions now. Maybe it was because you had no idea what was going on, and everything you had seen since the basement of the guest house, hadn’t made any sense. Or maybe it was because, even after all these years, you couldn’t stand the thought of Lucas not wanting to talk to you. Instead of answering you, Lucas’ grip got tighter, and his pace picked up. You two quickly turned the corner, and you noticed how the front door to the house had been barricaded with junk and other objects from around the house. You made a mental note that trying to escape through there would be impossible.  
“Lucas! Tell me what’s going on? What the hell happened to you? Why are you doing this?” You rambled as he continued, leading you through the double doors into the main hall of the house. “Lucas! Talk to me!” You raise you voice, shocking yourself, especially when you pull your arm out of his grip, and stand unmoving, with your back to the door. A chill runs through you as Lucas growls in frustration. He suddenly turns and bounds forward, pinning you with his right arm across your chest, to the door.  
“You always were such an needy, impatient bitch, you know that?!” He seethes. A look of shock and hurt paints your face, and you tell yourself that it’s not **your** Lucas. “You couldn’t just trust me, and wait for me to tell you. Oh no. y/n has to know **now**.” His face is so close to yours as he reprimands you, that his spittle is hitting you in the eyes, which are threatening to burst into tears. He lets you go, and takes a step back from you, to pull out some pruning shears, he had hidden in his back pocket.  
“You wanna know what I am y/n?” He raises his right hand, and brings the shears up. “Hmmm, you wanna know, what the **hell** happened to me?” You watch in abject terror, as he brings the open shears to his middle finger. “THIS!” He yells, as he closes the shears around his finger, severing it completely. You scream as loud as your voice will allow, as the ruined digit falls to the ground, and a fountain of blood squirts from the open wound.  
Your body is telling you to do a thousand things, scream louder, faint, throw up, ect. But you only listen to one command. Run. You make a sharp right and bolt up the stairs. Straight thinking you, would have chastised yourself for following the cliches of horror movie bimbos, but you weren’t thinking straight. All you could think about was getting away from Lucas. You knew if you could get to the the secret attic in his old room, you could barricade yourself in there. Starving to death seemed like a nicer way to go, then anything the Not Bakers had in store for you.  
You get up to the landing and practically throw your body through the door to the left, your momentum carries you too much, causing you to fall and land hard on the wooden floor.  
“Y/n!!!” You hear Lucas yelling behind you, and the fear of him catching you pulls you up off of the ground. You bump into the landing table as you turn towards Lucas and Zoe’s old room, knocking Jack’s football helmet to the floor in a loud clatter. Behind you, you can hear Lucas sprinting up the stairs, causing your panic to rise ever higher.  
‘Has he always been this fast?’ You think to yourself, as you burst through the door to the bedroom. You know you don’t have enough time to find the the trophy key to the attic, not with Lucas directly on your heels. From the corner of your eye, you spot an old chair, quickly you drag it to the door, and wedge it beneath the handle. Something tells you it wont keep Lucas out for long. And you were right. Not two seconds after you secured the door, Lucas hits into it. Slamming his fists on the old wooden frame.  
“Dammit y/n let me in!” His muffled voice commands from the other side, the force of his punches cause a splinter to burst from the door. You cover your mouth to muffle a scream, as you frantically search for your salvation. Lucas continues his barrage on the door, each time breaking it a little more. You almost let out a scream of frustration as you continue your search, he has too many trophies stored in this room, none of which are the one you need. You glance at the door and make a decision. The door could shatter at any moment and let Lucas in, so you came up with a plan. All you had to do was convince Lucas that you were safely secure in the attic, maybe then he would leave you alone long enough to find the actual remote for the ladder. It wasn’t the best plan, but it was the only one you had. You rushed quickly over to the light switch, painting the whole room in darkness, and rushed back over to an old wooden desk on Zoe’s purple side of the room. You arranged the many boxes around the table, but not too many as to make it suspicious, and curled up under the desk, in the smallest ball you could possibly make. You had left a gap at the front of your boxes, so that anyone who gave the desk a passing glance would see straight through to the other side, and would think it was empty underneath. It was a trick you had learned as a kid, after watching hours upon hours of Magic's Biggest Secrets Finally Revealed. You never once thought you’d put that knowledge to use, let alone against a crazy, deranged, super-powered version of your crush.  
The door finally caved in, bringing Lucas stumbling into the room. He let out a yell of frustration as he tripped over the wooden chair, and threw it across the space, shattering the piece of furniture into a million jagged fragments. You once again cover your mouth in order to stifle a yelp, and to try and muffle your breathing. Lucas stood for a moment in the doorway, the shaft of light from the corridor outside left him in complete silhouette, his tall figure ominous in the dark. He let out a low menacing chuckle as he started forward into the room.  
“Ah know you’re in here y/n.” He laughed. “And ah I know, you ain't in the attic.” He stars stalking around the room clockwise, like a hungry shark, your wide eyes follow his every step. “And how do you know that Lucas?” He poorly imitates your voice. “Well, Princess, it’s because ah have the trophy.” He slowly makes his way to your side of the room, every step he takes is punctuated with a word.  
“Back.” A step closer.  
“At.” Another  
“The.” He stands in front of the desk.  
“Barn.” He kneels making direct eye contact with your pathetic shaking form.  
“Oh, fuck.” The words tumble out of your mouth without thinking.  
“Maybe later,” Lucas laughs, “but right now we gotta set some ground rules.” He reaches out and grabs onto your ankle, pulling you hard across the carpeted floor and out from under the desk, you t-shirt and jacket is pulled up due to the friction, and you feel your back getting harsh carpet burns. You cry out and kick, your foot making direct contact with Lucas’ face. He grunts and stumbles, letting go of your leg in the process. You roll over and start crawling towards the door, desperate to escape Lucas once more. But another harsh pull at you leg causes you to faceplant into the floor, your teeth chatter and you bite your tongue. You feel Lucas crawl heavily on top of you, boxing you in and pinning you down. You knew you had lost this fight. His long fingers snake into you hair and tugs your head harshly back, you ear becomes level with his lips. A chill runs through you when you hear him lick them, if you weren’t so terrified you would think this was hot. Lucas seemed to have the same idea.  
“Ah never knew you liked it rough y/n” He murmured in your ear, causing an involuntary blush to cover your face. “Did New York teach you that?” His voice now had a bite to it, a sudden venom. Was he was still mad about you leaving, even after all this time?  
“Lucas…” You weakly start, he weight on you was beginning to make breathing hard.  
“Ah, ah ah. Princess. You wanted me to talk, and now ah’m gonna talk.” His lips ghosted over the shell of your ear, causing another chill to run through you, but this time it wasn’t fear. “We are gonna have so much fun, just you wait and see. You’re gonna regret leaving me behind.” His voice was much darker now. The tone itself caused a primal part of you to try to run again. You thrashed underneath him, causing the pain your body had endured to night to flare up.  
“Please…” You whimpered, barely audible to even yourself.  
“Huh? What was that.” Lucas asked, as he changed his position. He sat back and pulled you tightly into his lap, though his vice like grip in your hair never faltered, his other hand now came to rest around your neck once more. You gasped, not only because you could finally take a deep breath, but also because he was rock hard and poking you in the lower back. A deep flash of heat ran through you and settled in your core. You told yourself it wasn’t happening, you were not getting turned on by this situation.  
“Pu…lease…”He coaxed you, and you snapped back to yourself.  
“Please. Lucas. Please don’t kill me.” You pleaded with him, you turned to look up at him, his face painted in shadows from the dark, in response his grip on your neck just tightened.  
“You really think ah wanna kill you?…” Lucas sounded hurt. “Ah already told you, ah’m never letting you go again.” He punctuated his statement with another harder grip on your throat. You could tell where this was going, and you briefly wondered how harmful to your brain it was to be choked out twice in less than 6 hours.  
“Why?” You breathed. “Why won’t you let me go?” Tears were once again threatening to spill. And a dark low chuckle escaped from Lucas’ throat.  
“Because ah love you.” He admitted, his grip becoming too tight, stopping your oxygen once more. Your tears finally spilled as Lucas leaned down, capturing your lips in a harsh, deep, kiss. But before it was over, you lost consciousness once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, writers block is a bitch, and I have to be in a certain mood to write the twisted world of Resident Evil 7.   
> Also sorry if Jack and Marguerite are ooc, I was trying to combine how they act in the main game and the dlc bedroom game, where they have a fight and quickly become all snuggly together.


	5. Conflicts of Interest

Rough calloused hands place you down on the old bed. Its fragile frame creaking dangerously at the weight of two fully grown bodies it was not designed to handle. Your eyes were shut tight, daring not to take in the sight before you, for you feared if you did you would die. You could feel his body above yours, hot and heavy, far closer to you then it ever had been, but it wasn’t enough, you wanted it even closer, and it was driving you insane. His knee had come to rest in between your legs, occasionally rubbing up against your fully clothed sex causing you to pant with want. You didn’t know how you had gotten into this situation, but you didn’t care to think about it, all you wanted was him. 

Lucas was breathing heavy in your ear as he slowly sucked and nipped against your exposed flesh, his hot breath mixing with the sweat that had come to reside on you face and neck, causing shivers to run down your spine and pool in your lower stomach. 

“Hey, look at me.” He quietly grunted against your neck, his hands tugging harshly at your hair, demanding your full attention. Fearing a punishment you weren’t ready for if you refused, you slowly opened you eyes to the man. 

“Lucas.” You whispered in both a plea and a beg. You had waited so long for this. Your whole life. Nothing nor no one compared to Lucas. Your love for him boarded on obsession, at times you thought it was too much, but that didn’t matter now, because you had him. You finally had him. Your delicate mewl of his name drew him out from your neck to bore his eyes to yours. You stared longingly up at his face, oh, that face. The short mousy brown hair, the piercing blue eyes, the way his peach flesh turned pink at the cheeks whenever he was flustered. You adored it, and you’d always dreamed of what it could do to you. How you’d fantasized of it in between your legs on many a lonely night. 

“There’s my girl…” Lucas smiles down at you, removing one of his hands from your hair to stroke your cheek, your face turning scarlet in response. You subconsciously bite your lip, which elicits a growl from deep within Lucas’ chest. Before you have time to process the noise, Lucas’ lips are on yours, with a passionate kiss that strikes you to your very core. Your hands shakily find their way to the back of Lucas’ head, and pull him closer, deepening the kiss. He shifts his body, once again grinding his knee into your core, eliciting a shameless moan from you. At the first chance he gets Lucas plunges his tongue into your now open mouth, fighting you for dominance, but you quickly submit to him, letting him explore and taste you. You rake your nails through his short hair as you start to grind yourself into his knee, desperate to increase the friction and pleasure it’s causing your body. 

“Lu..Lucas.” You moan out as you break for a moment of air. The moment is almost nothing as Lucas once again pulls your lips to his, like a starving man his tongue once again massages yours, as his hands start to wander. A large hand ghosts down your side, barley making any contact but still managing to light up your nerves, electrifying your entire being. It traces along the hem of your shirt, tugging nervously at the fabric, before disappearing deep beneath it. 

Your breath hitches as his fingers gingerly slide over your stomach and to your side, as he almost agonizingly slowly traces your ribs, you break the kiss only to start attacking his neck, licking and nipping the salty heated flesh, Lucas’s breathing becomes heavier and heavier as he finally cups your breast through your bra. His name almost sounds like a prayer as it falls from your lips, spurring him on, daring him to go further. Your grinding has left you needy and wanting, you need flesh on flesh contact, you **need** Lucas to take you. 

But he stops. 

You whine in frustration as Lucas moves away from you, forcefully stopping your attack on his neck and removing his hand from under your shirt. He leans back against his heels effectively trapping one of your legs beneath him. 

“Lucas?” You faltered, as you watched him turn his face from you to stare at the wall and draw his hood over his face. It was then you took in your surroundings. You were in the apartment conversion in the barn, you were sure of it. It was just the way you left it, from your place on the bed you could see straight into the kitchen area. Everything was the same, the counters where clean and held a menagerie of kitchen utensils, novelty paper towels, spare cans of food, the oven was just squeaky clean and as unused as ever, one day you’d have to teach Lucas how to cook something not out of the microwave, and the little girl standing in the doorway was…new. 

She was too far away to see clearly from your position on the bed. But what you could see chilled you to the bone. She was short, dressed in a deep dark blue dress, her face was pale and obscured by the inky black mess of her hair. She looked thin and sickly, far too pale for any healthy child. She also seemed soaked to the bone, and yet her hands were filthy, the seemed to be covered in a thick blackness. But still you couldn’t see. Your instant reaction is to see if the child is okay. She doesn’t belong here at the Baker estate. 

‘Maybe she’s lost’ You think to yourself, before yelling out. “Hello? Are you okay?” The little girl simply laughs, sending a wave of nausea to wash over you, suddenly you no longer want to help, but instead the distinct feeling that something is wrong with her takes over. 

“Who are you?” You question. Dreading the answer. The little girl simply turns and walks away, disappearing mid step, leaving no evidence she was there, but a molded stain where she once stood. Your mouth agape in confusion your attention once again falls to Lucas, who is still staring blankly at the wall. 

“Lucas. Hay, Lucas.” You click your fingers in front of the man, trying to gain his attention. “Did you not hear me talking to that little girl.” Nothing but a zombie like stare is his response. “We have to go after her. She could get hurt…or hurt someone.” You didn’t know which was more likely. When once again Lucas gave you no response, you huffed out in annoyance. “Fine.” You said as you shoved the man off of you. “I’ll go on my own. Have fun staring at the wall Lucas.” You chided as you got off the bed, you’d never seen Lucas this weird before. He was never one of shirking an adventure, maybe he’d had a fight with Zoe or something…

CRACK

You head is slammed violently into the dry wall of the hallway. Lucas towers above you as he holds you up against the wall. You feel a warm ooze trickle down your neck and the scent of iron fills the air. 

“Are you seriously, leavin’ me behind again y/n?” Lucas’ voice drips with venom as he draws his fingers across you neck and shows then to you, painted crimson with your own blood. 

“W..what? I would never leave you Lucas.” You whimper, your head throbbing, confusion and pain setting in. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, you don’t understand what is happening, and yet it is all too familiar to you. 

“DON’T FUCKIN’ LIE TO ME!” Lucas screams and he punches you square in the jaw, sending you hurtling to the floor in the kitchen. 

‘When did Lucas get this strong?’ You frantically think to yourself, before the image of Lucas punching down a door flashes through your memory. You desperately shake you head, trying to focus your thoughts. The hooded Lucas stalks towards you and your quickly raise your hands in defense. 

“I didn’t lie!” You cry out, halting Lucas’ advance. You didn’t understand, Lucas wouldn’t hurt you, would he? Another flash, this time of a enraged Lucas choking you on his old bedroom floor. 

“Yes you did.” A quite voice whispers. It a soft feminine voice, one usually filled with joy and kindness. Natasha’ face flashes through your mind. You desperately search for you friend, you don’t know why she’s here. Had you ever told her about the Baker estate? No wait…You invited her. Didn’t you? You finally spot her stepping out of the shadows followed closely by Martin and Cameron. Relief fills your soul at the sight of your friends. Maybe they could help you get away from Lucas, from this madness you found yourself in. But as the three stepped closer, to joining Lucas at his side, you had to stifle a scream. They were not your friends. 

Gone were the bright, happy, lively visages of your friends. Instead stood before you were walking, mangled corpses. Each of them twisted and distorted in inconceivable ways, their complexions stripped away and now painted grey and waxy, blue veins bulging at the surface. Limbs twisted, broken, some even missing. Blood poured from every orifice, leaving in their wake a trail of coagulated blood and dying the fabric of their clothes a deep ruby red. Their faces were mutilated almost to the point of being unrecognizable, but not completely, as if whomever had done this had wanted you to recognize them, and was thus taunting you. 

“You said we’d enjoy this trip…” Natasha continued, as she stood uncomfortably close to Lucas. A pang of possessiveness washing over you. 

“You said we’d have fun.” Martin seethed, as blood gushed from the hole where his eye used to be. 

“You said we could get out of here.” Cameron gargled, from a busted torn open jaw. 

“You lied.” The corpses in unison. “You lied.” They started to chant. 

“I…I’m…sorry.” You began to cry. You had brought them here, to this hell of a place and now they were dead because of you. This was all your fault. You pleaded with your deceased friends. Begging for their forgiveness, for them to stop. Wishing you could undo it. 

“I’d give anything to save you!” You cry on your knees. The blood dripping from your head, mixing with theirs. 

“Really?” Lucas chimed in. Kneeling down to be eye level with you. He pulled his hood down, revealing his face to you, no longer flush and full of life, this was the hollow, pale face of the monster that had chased you through the house, had kidnapped you and declared you his. This was not your Lucas, or was it? 

“Would you really give ‘anything’ to save them?” He continued, his voice full of sick and twisted mirth. “If it **really** came down to it, who would you save, them…” He turned gesturing to the husks of your friends. “Or me.” 

Your eyes widened. You hadn’t expected him to ask that, and you hadn’t expected it to be a difficult decision. 

“Now I know it’s hard for you, on the one hand you have them. Kind, caring, they were there for you when you lost me, they kept you going, gave you a reason to carry on. Not to mention the fact that they are complete victims in this situation. Just the bearers of some rotten luck.” He made a condescending fake sad face, as he wiped a finger down from his eye, mimicking a tear. “But on the other, you have me. And even after all the years apart, everything I’ve done to you, everything you’ve seen tonight, there’s still one trump card I hold over them.” Lucas leans down to whisper in your ear. 

“You love me.” 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

 

You gasp for breath as you suddenly awaken. Your head throbbing and your neck on fire, you slowly sit up to realize you’ve been sleeping on a plastic tarp covered floor. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkened room, and when they do, your blood runs cold. You were in the exact same spot you’d been in your dream. The kitchen floor of Lucas’ barn apartment. But gone were all the necessities to make it a home, the furniture had been striped out, there was nothing left but a solitary table in the area you were. Standing you checked the kitchen, to find it completely bare bones, no food, no dishes, no cutlery to use. You were surprised the oven and kitchen sink hadn’t been torn out. Whilst it seemed from what you could make out in the dark, that all of the old had been buried and destroyed, there was some new additions to the once so familiar apartment. Metal grating had been welded to the back of the sink, and more plastic tarps were now attached to the walls, it gave the room a slightly industrial/prison feel, which you thought was apt. 

As you stumbled about in the dark you wondered where Lucas was, you had a feeling he wouldn’t have gone far. Not after what he’d said in his old bedroom. 

“He loves me.” You smiled to your self, before quickly shaking that thought from your head. What the fuck were you thinking, the man was crazy! A murderous psychopath, that kidnapped and murdered people, a monster masquerading as the man you had known and loved your whole life. He had hurt your friends, terrified and chased you, and then choked you until you had lost consciousness, twice! You were definitely not thrilled beyond all measures that Lucas had feelings for you. No. Because if you were, you’d be crazy too.

‘It’s the brain trauma from lack of oxygen’ You told yourself. ‘Or maybe Stockholm syndrome…like the fastest case in recored history.’ You were a rational, grown woman. You knew right from wrong, and you knew **this** was very wrong. But you couldn’t deny that having Lucas back, even if it was a twisted dark version of him, made the tiniest part of your heart happy. Was there something broken in you? You couldn’t help but think, maybe there was, and that made you mad. 

You slammed your hands down hard on the lone table in the room, you were tired, in pain, and confused beyond all hell, most of your emotions were messed up and drained, leaving you with nothing but the need for answers and a building anger towards this entire trip. 

“Hey now, be careful, that table’s a family heirloom ya know.” Lucas’ voice laughed out around the room. His voice booming and harsh, coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. The hair on the back of your neck stood to attention, as the room became silent once again, you felt like at any moment Lucas would appear and choke you out once again, and once was quite enough. But instead of an attack coming, light filled the room, stinging your unready eyes. With the lights turned on you could finally take in the entire apartment without fear of surprises in the dark. 

As you wondered the apartment layout, you noted that the metal grates and tarps were littered throughout, and they weren’t just aesthetic choices, they probably served a purpose, and you prayed to god you didn’t find out first hand what that purpose was. You ignored the room opposite the kitchen, the one that had once been Lucas’ bedroom, you didn’t need to see a room you’d created happy memories in stripped away like the rest of the house. Instead you continued left, going to finding the spare room completely under construction, a wall had been bashed through and made into a metal grate covered window into an adjoining room, and another was currently in the process of having several LED flat screens attached to it. You hoped that the screens weren’t for surveillance cameras but then again, Lucas had known you’d slammed your hands on the table. So that meant he could see you. 

Your head whipped around to the corners of the room desperately searching for his spying eyes, but to no avail they were definitely well hidden. You let out a sigh of defeat as you heard a chuckle rise from the speakers littered around the room. 

“Aw come on Princess, you think I’d hide mah camera’s in plain sight. You know me better than that.” Lucas gleefully taunted. 

“Yeah well so much has changed around here, I thought maybe you’d dropped the ball.” You retorted unafraid of the consequences. When it was just his voice, it was easy to forget what he’d become, and suddenly you were back to being two friends just shooting the shit again.

“Hehehee, y/n l/n are you sassin’ me.” Lucas laughed.. 

“You sound just like your ma, Lucas.” You stifled a giggle. “And so what if I am, what you gonna do about it, I’m in here, and you’re…wherever the hell you are.” 

There was a beat of silence. Instantly the mood in the room changed. 

“You have no idea what ah could do to you in that room y/n.” Lucas threatened, his voice deep and dark, laced with something terrifying. The monstrous Lucas was back. Instinctively you backed yourself up against a wall so no attacks could come from behind, to your relief the lights remained on, you could count that as one point in your favour. 

“What’s a matter Princess you seem on edge.” He continued his voice snide and smug. Your anger towards him boiled up again, one minute, you couldn’t have one minute with the old Lucas. 

“You’d be the same if you were in my position.” You sneered up at the air. 

“Whoo baby, ah could gladly take you in that position.” He lewdly exclaimed. If it were a sane day you would have blushed, if it was 5 years ago and Lucas had said that, you probably would have fainted, but at this moment in time you were straight up pissed. 

“Are you seriously fuckin’ flirting with me?! Right fuckin’ now! After you just threatened me? Really?” You yelled. Consequences be damned. Wait, consequences. What consequences would there be? Lucas had already promised that he would not kill you, he’d made it abundantly clear that he was going to keep you alive and locked up with him, probably for the rest of your long life. So what were you really afraid of. He had nothing but empty threats. Maybe it was the adrenaline caused by your anger, but didn’t you have all the cards here. If Lucas was so desperate to keep you here, maybe you could find a way to use him to your advantage and find a way to save your friends…if they were still alive. 

Silence permeated the room once more, had you stunned Lucas to silence, or was he really going to make good on his threat? Instead of waiting to find out your anger forced you to keep talking, to let the venom that the past 48 hours had accumulated spill out. 

“What got nothin’ to say to that Lucas? Did you think that you’d confess your love for me and then I’d just let you get away with whatever the fuck you wanted? That I’d stop fighting and just roll over, accept my fate and not ask why?” Still silence, you couldn’t even hear breathing, which meant he’d turned the microphone he was using off. Was he ignoring you? How dare he ignore you, after everything he’d done! 

“Fine, fuck this, I’m out!” You yell once more to the air and to Lucas. As you storm through the small apartment, you knew it was petty and childish, but a part of you wished there was still furniture around so you could throw stuff on the floor as you stormed away. You reached the entrance swiftly and found that the old wooden door had been replaced with a thick metal one, with a metal grated window. You pushed it and where not surprised to find it locked, a heavy chunk sound rattled through the room as you continued in vain to try to push the door open. When simple pushing was deemed futile you escalated your efforts to harsh kicks instead, and finally you graduated to beating the metal door in a frantic fury induced panic. 

“Would you fuckin’ cut that out. The doors not gonna budge.” Lucas chastised, but rather than an all encompassing voice booming through the speakers and straight into your throbbing brain, it came directly from behind, and it sounded tired. 

You stopped your frantic banging, and slowly turned to face the man. Your mouth and brows set in a harsh line, you spoke. 

“Where’d you come from?” It was a simple question, it didn’t stop your frantic rage coming off you like fumes though. 

“The barn exit to the boat house. Ah put a secret door in between it and my old room.” Lucas stated matter-of-factly. 

“Of course you did.” You scoffed, but you couldn’t deny you were a little impressed. You weren’t going to tell Lucas that though, not unless he gave you what you wanted. Which was answers. 

“Yah know you should really sit…” Lucas started to approach you. You frantically raised your hands to him.

“Stop!” You yelled, and to your up most surprise, he did. 

“Ah’m not gonna hurt ya y/n” He seems almost pathetic as his eyes dart to the ground. You wonder for a moment if that’s shame you can see in them. 

“Really? Cause my hand made bruise choker says otherwise.” Despite him not looking you can’t stop yourself from motioning to your neck. When he doesn’t make a move to apologize, but simply kicks dirt up with his shoe you sigh, leaning your tired broken body up against the cold metal door. 

“Who are you?” You ask dejectedly, turning your head to stare at Lucas. A small sad smile plays across Lucas’ lips as his eyes come up to yours. 

“Tch, I’m Lucas Baker.” He flourishes his name with a shrug of his shoulders and another smile, a smile that does not reach his eyes. 

“What are you?” You continue with your questions, hoping to find some rational explanation to all of this, but doubting your chances. 

“Something new.” He jokes. 

“ “Something new” what does that even mean Lucas?” You challenge. You were sick of his games and just wanted straight answers. You bound up to him and grab his hand, the one he’d severed fingers from. Fingers that had now grown back . 

“What the hell kinda ‘new thing’, grows back severed limbs.” You wave his hand in front of his face. 

“Technically fingers aren’t limbs, they’re digits soooo…” 

“Lucas!” You yell, dropping his hand, and turning around in frustration.

“Ah don’t know what ah am exactly. There isn’t exactly an official name for it…yet. But…y/n look at me,” when you refuse to turn he gently turns you around instead, your eyes wander to his hand on your shoulder and he slowly drops it, making sure to brush his fingers along your jacketed arm, “Whatever I am, is amazing.” His voice is filled with genuine excitement and manic enthusiasm, it was exactly the same way he’d talk about an invention he was cooking up or some new tech thing he’d found back in the old days. Back then his excitement would have infected you, and you would be just as eager to see how the endeavor turned out, but this time you stared at him in quiet fear. 

“How is this amazing? Please Lucas, please tell me cause…” You shake your head, taking in the form of the man standing in front of you, he was undeniably Lucas Baker, the man you could have died for, but now he was twisted, broken. It was as if every piece of light had been stripped away, buried beneath a sea of corruption and unspeakable acts. “…Cause all I see is horror.” 

“Then you’re not looking hard enough.” Lucas chided. “Ah have everything ah’ve ever wanted, because of this…gift.” 

“Gift?!” You say incredulously. “What part of looking like a corpse, being absolutely covered in filth, and kidnapping people is a gift?” You desperately wanted to break through to him, he was clearly sick, every Baker you’d seen so far was clearly sick. They looked like the transitional picture used in the BSAA and Terrasave’s campaigns to “Spot a virus infected individual” 

“How about the part were ah’m stronger than ah could have ever been when ah was normal. Or how about the fact that ah can’t die.” He motions to his hand, and your eyes widen. “Oh yeah that’s right Princess, this isn’t some stupid little trick, Ah. Can’t. Die. None of us can. And isn’t that amazing. You don’t have to worry about getting hurt, getting old or getting sick, none of that matters any more.” He seemed like a demented con man, trying to give you his sales pitch for his brand new miracle tonic. 

“And for the first time in mah life, ah’m needed…” He confided, his voice little. You had forgotten how lonely Lucas was when you had lived here. You found yourself, closing the gap between the two of you, just a little. Something he clearly noticed from the way his eyebrow perked up. 

“You’re family has always needed you Lucas that’s nothing new.” You sympathized with him. You always had, and with your fight with your mother, and your inability to keep your friends safe, you would give anything to be needed. 

“Mah family…Yeah…” Lucas mumbled under his breath. 

“There’s also one last thing it’s given me…” Lucas’ voice became husky as he closed the short gap between you. His crystal blue eye’s boring into yours with an intensity you didn’t know whether good or bad. 

“What?” You voice trembled and you hated yourself for it. After showing such strength and fearlessness to him, it was embarrassing that one change of tone in his voice could turn you into a puddle. 

“You.” His voice was smooth, seductive. It made you wish for a normal reunion, one from the shitty romance movies. But your reality was a fucked up horror film, you couldn’t be sucked in, not completely, for you feared Lucas would devour you whole. 

“Lucas…I…” You voice was weak as you started your retort, however you were interrupted by a groan from your stomach. They dying whale noises currently coming from you, reminded yourself that you hadn’t eaten all day. The look of complete and utter confusion that swept over Lucas’ face was too much, and you couldn’t control what happened next. 

“Pffffttt Hahahhahaa!” For the first time in what seemed like forever you let out a genuine laugh. It was no more than a second before Lucas broke down in laughter as well. 

“Jesus Christ y/n ah thought you was supposed to be a lady.” Lucas smiled. 

“Well what can I say, Zoe was a bad influence.” You sigh, wiping a tear from your eye. 

Your mirth is cut short however when Lucas grabs your hand and starts leading you through to his old apartment bedroom.

“Wha…What are you doing Lucas?” You inquire. 

“You’re hungry. Can’t have you starving to death on me.” He led you through the room and into the open passage way he had mentioned earlier. 

“You know what, it’s fine. I’m not even really that hungry, besides I’m on this new diet. You see we only eat healthy, fresh cooked food, so that means creepy mystery offal is a no no. Sorry. Thanks though.” You try pulling your hand out of his, but it’s clamped down tight like a vice. 

He leads you through to the backroom of the barn, and the exit to the boat house. It’s a dinky little room, with most of it’s space taken up by a large desk filled with computer towers and monitors, it looked like the set up of every underground hacker in a 90’s action movie, all in all very Lucas. More wires and tarps littered the small room along with a side counter and against the right hand wall was a small green camp bed. You came to the sad conclusion that this was probably where Lucas spent the majority of his time. 

Lucas finally lets got of your hand when you enter the room, moving to close the wooden door behind you, effectively sealing you in together, you had tried bolting before and it hadn’t worked, and you were not going to try it again in such a small room. 

“Sit” Lucas commands as he motions to the camp bed. You don’t kick up a fuss, as you are still unsure of what he’s about to force you to eat. You hope his mood sticks and the kind laughing Lucas stays instead of the one most likely to shove you face first into a pile of guts. You sit tentatively, watching the man dig around in some draws at his desk. Mumbling profanities under his breath as he searches for god knows what. After what seems like an eternity he finally spins around to face you. In his outstretched hand is a giant bag of chips. 

“Here.” He mumbles as you gingerly take the snack from him. You questionably raise an eyebrow at him. “What I’m not allowed to eat normal food now?” he retorts quickly. 

“No, it’s just…I noticed you didn’t eat ‘‘dinner’’ either.” You observed out loud, eying Lucas carefully as you opened the bag. Luckily they weren’t stale and you quickly dug in. 

“Keep your mouth shut.” Lucas hisses, as he slumps down in his desk chair. Spinning it to face you. 

“S..sorry.” You blurted out quickly, as you made a mental note that this new Lucas was in fact a fucking minefield. 

You sat in silence as you ate the chips, nothing but the harsh crunch of each bite filled the room. But there was still one thing nagging in the back of your brain. One question you still needed answering, even if it encored Lucas’ wrath. 

“Are my friends dead.” You asked bluntly as you placed the chip bag down on the bed beside you. 

“I thought ah was your friend.” Lucas glared at you from across the room. 

“Answer the question Lucas. Are my friends dead?” You were adamant to get an answer, because it would decide your next move in this twisted game you were playing with the Bakers. 

“Doesn’t fuckin’ matter.” He stated as he swiveled in his chair, focusing his attention on his computer. 

“Well it does to fuckin’ me!” You raise your voice as you stalk over to him, swiveling him back round to face you, your arm gripping the back of the chair tightly. 

“Well it shouldn’t cause those fucktards you call friends are gonna be dead soon. Daddy’s taking care of the two dickheads, and Ma wanted the girlie to feed to her babies. So it **really** don’t fuckin’ matter.” He smirked up at you, his eyes challenging daring you to do something stupid. You simply dropped your hand and turned away from him. 

“No.” You whimpered out. Your friends were going to die, their families were going to have tragedy thrust upon them, all because of you. How could you possibly live with this. Your whole body tensed as Lucas moved to wrap his arms around you, and rest his chin upon your head. 

“Cheer up Princess. Don’t cry over pieces of trash. Besides ah told you, you’re mine now. I’m the only person you need to care about. Understand.” He punctuated his words with a tight squeeze. 

“I hate you.” You seethe, unable to break away from his grasp, so instead you take the path of least resistance and accept it. 

Lucas lets out a terrifying chuckle as he leans down to whisper in your ear. 

“No you don’t…You love me.” 

Your breathing hitches in your chest. You know deep down he was right, you did love, him, and probably always would, but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to fight, to try and get your freedom back. You would gladly spend every waking minute you had left trying to get away from this place, not for yourself, in your opinion you deserved to be stuck in hell with Lucas, but for your friends. They deserved much more than to be missing posters taped to telephone poles. That’s what you told yourself anyway, it would be a heroic mission for your friends. Your desire to leave had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that since the moment you woke up in the barn apartment, a small part of you, buried deep within your subconscious didn’t want to leave. After all were you not finally home with your family?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I needed to rearrange some of the layout of the game map for this chapter to work, so that's why I swapped out the item box in Lucas' computer room with a camping bed. I just felt it was weird that the only bed we see of his despite him living in the barn for years is in his old childhood bedroom in the main house.


	6. A Glimmer Of Hope

Your eyes groggily opened, the act chasing away your almost pleasant, dreamless sleep. You stared bleary eyed at the same image you had fallen asleep to. A hunched over Lucas typing away at his desk. If it wasn’t for the fact that Lucas’ hood was down instead of up like it had been when you’d closed your eyes, you would have been sure that nothing more than a second had gone by. In actuality you had no idea how long you’d actually been asleep for, there where no clocks in Lucas’ little hub and an unnerving lack of windows.   
The dark idea, that with one caulking gun this room could become a isolated and completely sealed off prison, crossed you mind. And you wondered if Lucas had thought of it too. Most likely considering how adamant he was on keeping you here forever.   
But the thing that disturbed you most about this thought, was how appealing it seemed. Just you and Lucas, trapped together until you starved. How romantic would it be? Dying in each others arms….  
‘No!’ You internally screamed, that was wrong. This was wrong. If there was a reason, (and that was a large if), you wanted to be sealed in a room with him until you died, it wouldn’t be because of some sick twisted possessive love you had for him. No, it was because…if he was trapped in here with you, he couldn’t go out and harm any one else. That was the reason. Nothing else. 

You sat up, blaming sleep brain on your depraved thoughts. The creaking of the old camp bed drew Lucas’ attention from his screens. He spun gleefully around in his chair to greet you with a crooked smile. 

“Mornin’ Princess. How’d ya sleep?” It was casual but peppy. Like he’d been waiting desperately to say that. You couldn’t control the small smile that played on your lips, Lucas had always been a closed of grouch most of the time, so when he genuinely seemed to relax and smile, it always warmed your heart. This was the Lucas you’d fallen for all those years ago. But you had to keep your guard up, your eagerness to comply with Lucas’ wishes was scaring you. Maybe if you refused to give in to your feelings, your shock would reside and you’d get your regular human mind back, instead of this foggy lizard brain you were currently using. 

“As good as I could’ve, considering.” Your reply came out more angry than you had intended, a point Lucas must have noticed considering he arched a brow at you. 

“Well, you can always sleep on the floor next time.” He stated, leaning forward in his chair, as if he was daring you to talk back at him again. You couldn’t help the curt laugh that escaped your throat. 

“You really think this is about the shitty camp bed, I thought you were smarter than that.” Your body language matched his. Once again you cursed yourself for this defiance, but then again, antagonizing him had to be better than submitting to him. Right? 

Lucas let out a grunt as his face dropped and he spun back around to his work once more. 

“Ah am smarter than that, ah just didn’t want to hear you bitchin’ again.” His tone was cold, matter-of-factly. It was clear he was done with this conversation. But you weren’t. 

“Excuse me, bitching? How is legitimate fear and concern for my life, bitching?” You questioned him incredulously. 

“Cause ah already told you a million times. Ah’m not gonna hurt ya y/n.” He was getting irritated, but so were you. 

“Then what the hell was with you choking me out Lucas. Twice!” You yell standing up from the small camp bed trying to be intimidating. 

“If you hadn’t tried to leave me again, ah wouldn’t of had to do that, you stupid bitch!” He screamed in return, standing to his full height and grabbing your shoulders in a vice like grip. In one fell swoop he had smashed your attempt to intimidate him and left your feeling scared once more. 

You sucked in a breath and closed your eyes. You and Lucas were going in circles. Would you be doomed to have this fight every day until you died? You knew you had a real reason to be angry with him, but he clearly didn’t see it that way. If this kept going, you doubted you’d survive a week with Lucas, let alone forever as he intended. One of you would have to break eventually. You just wished it didn’t have to be you. 

With a heavy heart you sighed, and looked up at Lucas’ pissed off face.

“Morning huh? That…That means you’ve been working all night? How are you not tired?” You smiled. Trying in vain to return to the light hearted tone he had had when you woke up. A deep chuckle rumbled in Lucas’ chest as he slipped his hands down your arms and to your waist, pulling you in tightly. 

“You know me baby, once ah start a task, ain’t no stoppin’ till everything reaches completion.” He growls huskily into your hair, thrusting his hips forward to emphasize his last word. 

You grimace and laugh at his cheesy line, as you push away just enough to look him dead in the eyes. 

“Oh god Lucas if that’s your pick up line, I get why you had to take me captive.” You joke, but clearly he doesn’t see it that way, as he pushes you away. 

“You do fuckin’ better then.” He says clearly hurt. A part of you feels glad that he’s upset, after all the pain he’s put your through a little revenge is well deserved, but the part of you that wins out feels bad, guilty even. You knew how hard it was to be open with your feelings for someone, hell your inability to express how you felt had landed you in this predicament, but you also knew how hard all things social had been for Lucas. You’d seen him try and fail to make a connection before. So yeah, you felt real shitty that your attempt at humor had seriously backfired. 

“Alright then.” You desperately want him to know there was no malice, in your reaction. The genuine cheesiness of the line had caught you off guard, in fact if you were truthful, you thought it was cute if not slightly hot. So you bound up to him, and place your hand delicately on his chest, trying your best to seem seductive, taking note of the hitch in his breath when you touch him. 

“Baby, you must be a computer genius, cause you’re turning my software into hardware.” You whisper, and to cap off this desperate attempt to lighten Lucas’ mood you give him the biggest overacted wink in the world. 

As if he was mimicking you, Lucas lets out a curt laugh. Your unease and tension lifting instantly from your shoulders. However once again you found yourself disturbed by your need to make Lucas happy, it was fine when you were kids, and both normal, but now…Lucas had this ‘gift’ of his and your were pretty sure you were going insane. You shouldn’t be happy in this moment, you shouldn’t be playing along with his terrible flirting. You should be scared, you should be desperately trying to escape, and most importantly you **should** be trying to save your friends. Yet this was what you were choosing to do. 

“Jesus fuck y/n. What the hell was that?” Lucas smirks down at you. “Ain’t no way you getting any dick with a line like that.” His tone has an undercurrent of venom to it, your pretty sure he still doesn’t realize you were joking. 

‘Boy, can he be dense sometimes.’ You find yourself thinking. It reminds you of that one time Zoe claimed that a woman could walk up to Lucas with arrows pointing to her crotch with a fog horn announcing “I want to fuck you” and he still wouldn’t get the message. You had always thought it endearing, but now it was just another thing that could potentially set off this new version of Lucas. 

“Okay, okay.” You smile, lifting your hands in surrender. “I concede to you Lucas, you win.” You hope your tone is light and breezy, praying that he doesn’t find it condescending or worse. However instead of getting mad, Lucas’ eyes you like a hungry predator. 

“Finally catching up are we?” He gloats. As his hands slide up your arms to grip your still raised wrists. His eyes bore into your own, causing you to suck in a shaky breath. 

Lucas licks his bottom lip as he starts pushing you towards his desk, and you stare. Unsure of what your reaction to this situation should be. The tiny sliver of your sanity tells you to kick him in the nuts and run. After all it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what he wants. And you don’t want that to happen… You don’t…You d…

“Ahhhh!” You let out a startled groan as your ass is rammed into the wood of the desk. You physically can’t go any further, but that doesn’t stop Lucas from advancing. He raises your arms, transferring them both into one giant hand of his, so the other can freely roam across the side of your body, which is now firmly pinned between him and the desk. 

“Shit Princess, you don’t know how fuckin’ hot it is when you give in to me.” He growls possessively in your ear. You can’t stop the heat that spreads in your lower belly, or the quiver of your lip at his tone. 

“Lucas…” You beg. For what exactly, you’re still unsure of. How many times had you dreamed of Lucas wanting you, of taking you. Too many to count, but not like this. Never like this. Yet you found yourself getting wet just to the thought of him forcefully taking you on his desk. Unrelentingly pounding into you as he pinned your arms above your head and gave you no mercy. You wanted him so much it hurt, and from the way his rock hard dick was pressing into your lower abdomen, you knew you’d be getting your wish very soon. 

Lucas’ lips start ghosting over your chin, taking delicate, fleeting pecks at your flesh, as if he was afraid you’d shatter or disappear. It was caring and soft. Too soft for what you’d seen of this new Lucas. His tenderness was too much for you to handle, you were just staring to come to terms with this new violent Lucas and he goes and does a thing like this. It’s just too much. Hot salty tears fall from your eyes as Lucas continues his loving assault on your face, kissing everywhere but your lips, and leaving you more conflicted than ever. 

Lucas drops your hands so he can cup your face, and you find yourself subconsciously clinging to his back as you had done back in the guest house. Lucas gently wipes your tears away, stopping his ministrations, and hovering his lips tantalizingly over your own. 

“Tell me you love me.” His voice is quiet, hoarse and broken. It’s a desperate needy plea. It was heartbreaking. More tears threaten to spill as you tilt you head up slightly to look Lucas in his eyes. 

Shock washes over you, the crazed look of a madman is gone, replaced by the uncertain scared eyes of the man you once knew. They were the same eyes he had stared at you with all those years ago, when he was apologizing to you in your childhood bedroom. It was the same look that had made you realize just how much you truly loved him. 

“Lucas…I…” You whisper, the words burning at your lips, ready to destroy you and drag you into hell. “…I…” 

A screeching alarm goes off to your right, accompanied by something flashing across one of the many monitors on the desk. The violent intrusion of noise, causes Lucas to retreat in anger, and promptly crushes any semblance of mood the two of you had built. 

“For fuck sake!” Lucas seethes, hunching over his keyboard and violently typing god knows what, in a manic attempt to rectify whatever problem seemed to have exploded onto his monitors. 

The sudden lack of Lucas’ weight on you causes your legs to buckle and you slump to the floor. The realization of what almost happened between the two of you slowly fills your mind. You stare dumbfounded up at the man, as he mumbles profanities to himself. The monstrous Lucas seemed to be returning as the glow of the monitors painted his face in hideous shadows and emphasized the growing crazy in his eyes. As you watched him you couldn’t help but think that maybe you’d dodged a bullet.

“Goddammit!” He yelled slamming his fists into the hard wood and splintering it.

“What’s wrong?” You asked timidly from your spot on the cold concrete floor. 

“Fuckin’ cameras are out.” He violently gestured over to his left where two of the monitors were flickering between many different surveillance cameras strewn all about the house. Several of which were showing nothing but black. 

“Did…did they run out of batteries?” You innocently inquired. 

“Wha…No they didn’t ‘run outa batteries’,” He mocks, putting on a stupid voice to quote you. “Jesus y/n. What? Did everything I taught you go in one ear and out the other?” He stands to stare at you, with a superior but pissed look in his eye. 

“No,” You pout, “I was just trying to help.” You raise your knees to your chest and lean solemnly against a desk leg. You can’t stop yourself from thinking that maybe you should stop trying to do things and just wait for Lucas to tell you what to do. It would probably make things easier on you both, if you just stopped trying. 

Lucas eyes you on the ground and sighs. 

“Ah know.” He mumbles scratching the back of his head, clearly feeling awkward at the situation. You couldn’t help but feel a little lighter, it was more evidence that the old Lucas was still in there. Maybe that was one of the keys to escaping this dark fate, by dragging Lucas’ humanity back to the surface. Once again the alarm sounds, signaling that one more camera had gone out. Causing Lucas to yell out in frustration. 

“So what is it? Faulty wiring?” You inquire. Lucas’ sharp head turn back to you and his vein bulging threateningly in his forehead tells you to back peddle immediately. “Okay, no, it can’t be the set up that’s fucked, I mean **you** set it up. So of course it’s not the wiring…” You ramble on, waiting for him to shut you up, and save yourself from digging a bigger hole than the one you’re already in, but something blurry rushing over one of the surveillance cameras grabs both of your attentions. You watch as it darts out of one camera into another, before getting close to the lens and snuffing it out. You smile at the realization of what is causing the camera malfunctions. 

“Fuckin’ Zoe!” Lucas yells, as the static filled image of his sister runs across several camera points. “What the fuck does she think she’s doin’?” He hissed, his rage rising almost tenfold. 

“Lucas, what are you going to do?” You ask half scared, half morbidly curious. You’d seen his rage first hand, but what would he do to his own sister? She was his blood, his family, so nothing truly severe. But then again, look at what he’d done to you. 

As if solely to justify your fear Lucas smiles, not the sly smirks he had thrown to you before, nor the shit eating grin of the past, no this was the smile of a monster, a soulless psychopath. You realize that what you’ve seen of this new Lucas so far was nothing compared to what lurked beneath, and as you watched him pull a full duffel bag out from under his desk, brimming with tools and god knows what, you fear for Zoe’s life. 

“Ah’m gonna teach that bitch a lesson.” He laughs, and it chills you to the bone. 

“Ca…can’t you go easy on her, it’s…it’s just cameras, I know you can fix it…” You whimper out, feeling sick to your stomach. How could you have possibly been curious to see what would happen. That was just messed up. As you start to question your morality along with your sanity, Lucas slams the duffel down besides you and kneels in close, causing you to psychically jump, and instinctively raise your hands in defense. 

“Oh ah plan on fixin’ them, but people gotta learn,…” He digs in the bag and pulls out a set of handcuffs. Before you have even a second to react he has chained you to the desk leg by your wrist. “Ah don’t like sharin’ my toys.” He stares down at you, drinking in every inch of your body, before smirking and standing to leave, casually throwing the heavy looking bag over his shoulder as he does. 

“Lucas! Let me out of these, now!” You demand, tugging at your chained wrist. 

“Aw don’t worry Princess, ah’ll be back before you know it.” He smiles, as if he were just popping off to the shops or something. As he opens the door to leave, he quickly throws his glance back to you. “And if you need a piss,” He stifles a laugh, “There’s a trash can behind ya.” He gets one good look at your mortified face and bursts out laughing, a loud, all encompassing laugh, that you can still hear as he closes the door behind him. 

You sit completely dumbfounded on the cold concrete floor of Lucas’ surveillance room. Another tug at the cuffs proves to you that they are in fact real handcuffs, the kind cops used, and not some flimsy hen-do set from a shitty sex shop. Which left you two options. One sit here and wait like a good little girl for Lucas’ return, probably with Zoe’s head. Or two, try to break out. 

Both options had positives and negatives attached to them. Breaking out had the most risk, there was the obvious fact that escaping the room would piss Lucas off something fierce. And after trying to escape from him twice already were you willing to risk your neck a third time? Not to mention what it would actually take to get your hand out of the cuff. You’d seen movies, without a bobby pin or something small you’d never be able to pick the lock, so you’d have to forcefully get your hand out yourself. You knew what had to be done in order to make your hand small enough to release it. But could you do it?

You’d had breaks and fractures before, but they had all come naturally, from stupid things kids do, like that one time your wrist bent all the way back when you were playing soccer with Zoe. But this was different, this was purposely hurting yourself. As you looked down at your trapped wrist, you tried in vain to get your hand to be smaller, pushing your thumb in as far as it could go before it hurt, hoping and praying that by some miracle you could do it without dislocating or breaking the digit. 

Minutes went by as you desperately tried to get your hand out without damaging yourself. You were growing frustrated and desperate, but still unwilling to cause harm to yourself. 

“Come on!!” You yelled out in frustration as you threw sense out the window and just started tugging violently on your restraints. ‘A chain can break.’ You kept thinking to yourself. As you thrashed your wrist around, you had to escape, you needed to…

‘But do you?’ A thought crossed your mind, and you stilled. There was still always option one. Do nothing and wait for Lucas to return. It was the easier option, there would be no pain involved, and hadn’t you just thought about giving in and doing whatever Lucas wanted? Wasn’t that better than ripping your wrist to shreds? All Lucas wanted to do was love you, and be loved back…You could do that. So what if Zoe got hurt, she shouldn’t have touched Lucas’ cameras, and so fucking what if your friends died here, you had what you wanted, you had your family back…

“Fuck.” You moaned as you shook the evil black thoughts from your head, it was insanity. How could you possibly think of leaving them here, resigned to their fates. 

“Oh god.” You lamented as you once more braced your thumb, you had no idea how to do this properly, but you had to do something. With a shaky breath you steel yourself and started your assault on your hand, simultaneously pushing your thumb in and pulling the harsh metal ring up. When that doesn’t work you forgo pushing your thumb in and settle on putting all of your strength and energy into trying to rip the cuff over your hand. You start to panic each time it doesn’t work, causing you to get more violent and desperate. 

You don’t care when the metal starts rubbing skin off, you have to escape. 

You ignore it when your hand starts throbbing with pain, you carry on pulling, you have to save your friends. 

You leak fresh tears when your wrist starts bleeding, not for the damage you’ve caused to yourself or for the fact that you knew you weren’t going to get out in time. You knew the reason you were crying was because the moment Lucas walked through the door again, that dark place in your mind would take over once more and you wouldn’t **want** to leave. 

“Fucking Please!!!” You screech as your body starts violently shaking. “Please!” You yell again as you continue your attack on the metal, which was currently going slick with blood. 

You’re so focused on your desperate escape, that you don’t notice the foot steps quickly approaching the room. It isn’t until the door bursts open that you realize you’re out of time. 

“Y/n?!” The voice of Zoe rings in your ears, causing you to stop your failing escape attempt. You slowly turn your face to look at your old friend standing tall in the doorway. 

“Zoe…?” You whimper out, disbelief hanging to the edge of your voice. “What are you doing here?” You ask, the seething pain of your wrist starting to take it’s hold, now that you had stopped trying to free it. 

“What am I doin’ here?! What the hell are you doing here?” She scolds, as if no time had passed between now and your last meeting. 

“I…” You start, but Zoe lets out a shocked gasp when she finally gets a good look at you. As if in a blink of an eye she crouched over you, hover handing your fragile looking frame, as if she’s afraid to touch you. 

“What happened to you?” She pleads, her sorry eyes meeting yours. “Did Lucas do this to you?” Her voice suddenly cold, as she carefully cups your damaged hand, and notes your obvious wince. 

“No!” You instantly reply, chastising yourself internally. You were always quick to defend Lucas whenever they would have their petty sibling arguments. “I mean…yeah, he put me in the hand cuffs, but I did this.” You motion with your good hand to the mess you had made. 

“Why?” Zoe asks, moving to sit in front of you, her hand never leaving your brutalized one, easing the pressure that the cuffs still had on it. It was a gesture your heart swells for. It was clear from just this act she was the same old Zoe, the one you’d grown up with, your best friend and confidant. But a lingering thought in the back of your mind wondered how long it would take for the new Zoe to show her ugly face like the rest of her family. 

“I was trying to escape.” You state, hoping that maybe she’d take the hint and free you from the desk. 

“And what about that?” She motions to your face and neck, seemingly ignoring your hint. 

“I’ll tell you if you let me out of these.” You proposed. Bringing all the attention back to the cuffs, and the broken state of your hand. 

“Do I look like I have the key?” She snipped back, she was being way more blunt with you than she had been in the past. 

“Can’t…can’t you just break them apart?” You question, recalling how Lucas, despite his thin frame, had managed to knock down a barricaded door. Zoe gives you an wary look. 

“No, I can’t.” Her voice has an edge to it, it tells you not to push it. You ignore that warning. 

“But aren’t you like super strong or something? You know like the rest of your family.” You ask, but then again maybe you’re jumping to conclusions about what this gift could do, you had no concrete evidence that the rest of the Bakers where all super strong, after all the only one you’d seen use this ‘power’ was Lucas. You were about to undo your request, when Zoe flipped her shit. 

“I am NOTHING like the rest of my family!” She yells, quickly standing on her feet and glaring down at you. The look on her face tells you that she is truly offended by your accusation. 

“I’m sorry.” You quickly whimper out. ‘There’s the new Zoe’ You think dejectedly. “I just wanted to get out of the cuffs, I thought you were gonna help me.” You cry. As if on cue a fresh wave of pain stabs at your wrist, causing you to whimper pathetically, like a kicked dog. 

Zoe sighs, her defensive stance softening. 

“I’m sorry too, I just…Please don’t think I’m like them. Cause I’m not.” She starts looking around the room for something, with an almost guilty expression on her face. “If I was, I’d never have wrecked Lucas’ cameras.” She opens a draw and pulls out some green glass bottle. 

“Gotcha’” She smiles before once again, sitting in front of you. You eye the bottle carefully, noting the faded label, which sports a green cross on the front of it. Zoe once raises your cuffed wrist slowly, and unscrews the top with her teeth, before pouring the contents over your wounds. 

Instantly you flinch back, yanking your hand out of hers. It stings! It was like antiseptic alcohol had taken crack and dialed up it’s potency to 11 million. You started down at your wrist in shock and awe, unable to quite believe what was happening. Your flesh was literally knitting itself back together at an unprecedented rate. Within no time at all the liquid had been completely absorbed into your flesh, and healed the damage you had done. 

“Holy shit. What is that stuff?” You questioned, a bit more relaxed now that your wrist wasn’t a blood fountain. 

“I dunno? A whole bunch of em washed up when the tanker crashed,” She mused as much to herself as to you. 

“Tanker?” You ask confused. Why and how could a tanker crash in the middle of a bayou. 

“Ah ah, your turn to answer.” She interrupts your thought. “You never told me if Lucas had done that to you.” Once more she motions to your neck. 

“Why’d you want to know so bad?” You reply. You genuinely couldn’t understand why she was so hyper fixed on your injuries. 

“Because you’re my best friend, and he’s my shit lord of a brother…” Zoe looks down at her hands “And if he did do that, to **you** of all people, then, I really don’t think there’s any saving him…or my mom and dad.” She looks so solemn, so defeated. You reach out your free hand to stroke at her knee, her hopeless eyes meet yours, and you muster up a comforting smile. 

“I…I can’t pretend to understand what’s happened.” You start, “But I don’t have to, because it doesn’t matter. I’m apart of it now. And it doesn’t matter if you give up, or loose hope, because I never will. I will never stop believing in you, or Lucas, or the rest of this family. I promise you that.” You voice has a strength to it you didn’t know you still had. It must have struck a chord with Zoe, because in an instant her arms are wrapped tightly around you, in an almost unbearably tight hug. A hug you gladly reciprocate, even if it is only with one hand. 

“I missed you.” Zoe mumbles, her face buried in your shoulder. 

“I missed you too Zo.” You say with a smile. 

When Zoe finally lets you go, you wish that she didn’t, because in that moment, you were transported back in time, back to when things were normal, and you were happy. But now that the hug was over, you were once again stuck in your nightmare of a present. However now that you had your hand fixed, and tensions had cleared a bit, maybe you could get some answers. Zoe seemed like she was the sanest member of the Bakers, she also seemed willing to help as much as she could. But what should you start with? How this happened? What did exactly happen? What was the mess with the tanker? And who was this Eveline, Jack and Marguerite had talked about at dinner? They were all super important questions, any of them could hold the key to your escape and survival, but you had to choose carefully because you had no idea how long you had before Lucas came back and struck Zoe down with his wrath…

“Why did you destroy Lucas’ cameras?” You inquire, you couldn’t figure out why she had done it. Though you were sure you’d regret not choosing another question somewhere down the line. 

“I needed to see you. I thought…I thought I was goin’ mad when I saw you in Lucas’ arms. I couldn’t believe it, so I had to see for myself.” 

You sit there in silence, unsure of what to say next. Luckily Zoe was always the one to fill the awkward silences. 

“Besides, that asshole needed to be knocked down a few pegs.” Zoe smirks to herself. 

“Zoe!” You chastise. “I wouldn’t laugh if I were you, Lucas was fuckin’ pissed. I’ve never seen him so angry before. If he finds you, god knows what he’ll do to you!” You warn. Hoping she would understand how serious her fuck up was. 

“Heh, you don’t have to worry ‘bout that.” She dryly laughs, causing you to raise an eyebrow. “He won’t find me, I’m a ghost in this house. Unless I want it, they will never find me, but I can never leave.” Her voice is ominous, and you wonder if it had any deeper meaning. 

“Does…Does that mean you can get around the estate without your folks finding you?” You ask hopefully, a small plan beginning to form in your brain. 

“Ye…yeah. Why?” Zoe replies cautiously. 

“I wasn’t the only one taken Zoe. I dragged my friends into this. I need to know where they are…and if they’re okay.” Having Zoe around was a glimmer of hope, if you could find them, maybe you could get them out. 

“She’ll get mad if I try to help people escape.” Zoe faltered. She seemed worried, scared even. You thought she must be talking about Marguerite. 

“I’m not asking you to help them escape,” Yet. “But I am asking you to find out if they’re still alive. Just like you needed to know I was here, I need to know that they’re okay…or as okay as they can be given the circumstances.” You pleaded with her. 

“I…” Zoe scratches her neck, as she looks sheepishly to the side. You’ve never seen her this conflicted or timid. The punishment for going against the family must be truly something horrific, if it was scaring the Zoe Baker. Something seemingly catches Zoe’s eye, and she’s up like a bolt of lightning. “I have to go.” She states. You turn and look, seeing what she had. Lucas, making his way back through the cameras, all of which were once again working. 

“Shit that was fast.” You say unthinking. Watching as Zoe quickly makes for the door. “Zoe please!” You cry out, once more hoping she will come through for you. 

“I can’t promise much…but I think I can find out where they are.” She states, her back to you. “Whether they make it or not is really up to them.” Her tone of voice makes you wonder if people had tried escaping before, and failed miserably at it. Before you had a chance to ask, Zoe was gone. 

“Like a ghost.” You mused to yourself, as you slumped once more against the desk leg. 

As you looked around the surveillance room, you let everything settle in, contented with the fact that you’d had a encounter with a Baker that didn’t result in you being unconscious. ‘Though just barely’ You thought to yourself as you eyed the empty green bottle on the floor by your foot. You couldn’t help but ponder what would have happened if Zoe hadn’t come to see you. You let out a curt laugh to yourself, she was still your ever loyal warrior even after all these years, and she’d given you something important, hope.

Hope that your friends were alive, hope that you could find them, and hope that Lucas and the rest of the Bakers could be themselves again, even with this ‘gift’.   
You just prayed you found a way to do all that, before your brain gave in to the dark murky mess that kept seeping in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had to seriously rethink this story because of the dlc, that's why this chapter has taken so long. Let's just say Not a Hero completely fucked where this was going, but in hindsight I think the new way the story is going to turn will be better and more devastating than what I originally planned. 
> 
> Also from this point on, I will be incorporating more fanon and personal headcanon stuff into the plot. Nothing too drastic, Lucas isn't suddenly gonna fly or something, mostly it'll involve the families infections, how they happen, and how Eveline's methods of infection have changed now that she's old.


End file.
